


All About Us

by Suncharger



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Family, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-07-19 11:38:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 42,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7359724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suncharger/pseuds/Suncharger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles and oneshots featuring Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, and the mechs and femmes they come in contact with. Topics from fanfic100 table. Mainly G1, but will have some movieverse thrown in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 06-Hours

**Author's Note:**

> All of these are oneshots, unless stated otherwise. The tags and rating will be updated as I post more of the chapters. The topics come from the fanfic100 table I found and aren't going to be done in any certain order. This chapter was originally posted on ff.net on 8/31/10.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** Transformers is not mine.
> 
> **Prompt:** 06-Hours  
>  **Rating:** PG/K+  
>  **Characters:** Ratchet, Prowl, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe  
>  **Word Count:** 2,039

It took less than sixty seconds for the whole incident to happen. It took close to sixty minutes for the battle to end before the medics could get the warrior back to the medbay for proper treatment. It took nearly sixty hours for Ratchet to stabilize the frontliner's spark and major systems enough to tend to the many minor injuries that littered the frame.

Prowl glided into the quiet medbay, pausing to look around briefly. The room was empty, save for the medic. The soft beeps of the monitors seemed almost too loud for his liking. He grimaced when he caught sight of the mangled frame Ratchet was working on.

"How is he?"

"Sunstreaker will be fine now, but will be on full life support for the foreseeable future. I don't want to take him off of it until he wakes up on his own." The medic distractedly reported. "There was a lot of damage to his spark chamber. It was touch and go for a long while. Sideswipe anchored him for me, but several other major system failures didn't make it easy. Fragger offlined on me a couple times. One time nearly took his twin with him." Ratchet stopped his repairs to look at the other. "What exactly happened, Prowl? No one seems to have any details about it. Sideswipe isn't even sure about it."

The black and white mech sighed. "I was separated from my unit and pinned down by Blitzwing. I didn't realize Astrotrain was behind me until Sunstreaker rammed me out of the way. He took the brunt of their attacks for me."

"You put that in your report?"

"Of course. Why?"

"Good. Because those two care for the bots of this unit a lot more than they would ever show. Battle is just a convenient place for them to demonstrate it. They can write it off a lot easier." Ratchet finished reattaching the wiring he had been focused on. "If things like that are in the official report, maybe they'll start to get more respect from others."

Prowl gave a small smile. "You're so attached to them. How many hours do you estimate you've spent fixing them?"

"Total?" Ratchet asked. He glanced around the medbay as he thought about it. "Hmm. Too many hours. Way more than I've spent on any other mech here. I quit counting after a couple thousand."

Prowl's response was interrupted by the entrance of a weary looking Sideswipe, who hesitated in the doorway. "You should be in recharge, Sideswipe," he stated instead.

The ghost of a grin pulled at the frontliner's lip plates. "Can't sleep," he replied, voice pitched to a soft whisper. The paint of his armor was still scratched and chipped. He sported spots of dust here and there, and small dings and dents littered the metal plates. His optics were pale and stayed locked on the still form of Sunstreaker. "Can I stay here, Ratchet?"

"Yeah, kid, you can stay. Here," the older bot went over to a storage unit and pulled out a couple of thermal blankets. He handed them to the red mech as he moved to the berth closest to his twin. Prowl raised an optic ridge, slightly surprised that the medic allowed the red twin into the bay without going through the wash racks first for a more thorough cleaning. Or that he wasn't saying something about the mech's current state of health.

"Thanks," Sideswipe hopped up onto the cool surface, quickly cocooning himself in the blankets and immediately slipping into a light recharge. Ratchet hovered by the younger warrior, hand resting on the black helm.

"You really are soft on them," Prowl whispered.

Ratchet snorted. "I've seen you turn a blind optic to their antics a time or two. Don't deny it."

Prowl shrugged. "They need to have fun sometime. As long as it's harmless."

"You're just as amused at the results as they are. If you didn't have to keep up your image of the stern second in command, you'd let them off every time they pulled a prank." The white and red mech traced small patterns on the recharging bot's head.

"I admit to nothing," Prowl said, though a slight smile tugged at his lips.

After a moment, the medic shook his head and sighed and turned back to his repairs. Prowl reached to the end of the berth and picked up the medical report pad that contained information on Sunstreaker and his condition. He scrolled through the data, occasionally confirming it with the monitors and their displays. Once satisfied, he returned the data pad to its place.

"I still have some reports to finish. I will tell Optimus of Sunstreaker's condition," Prowl said, backing towards the doors. Ratchet nodded, never taking his attentions from his repairs.

Sideswipe stirred at the faint hiss of the doors. "Ratch?"

"I'm here. It was just Prowl leaving."

"Mmm." Pale optics onlined. Sideswipe simply lay where he was, watching the medic work for the next several hours. Slowly, the afternoon slipped into evening. Evening turned into night. Minutes turned into breems, which turned into hours, which turned into joors. Ratchet stopped at random times, grabbing quick moments of recharge for himself before returning to his tasks. Sideswipe drifted in and out of consciousness next to him, always keeping focused on Sunstreaker's face.

When the red mech's lapses into recharge grew closer together and more fitful, the medic finally turned his attention to him. "You really should rest, Sideswipe. Want something to help?" He kept his voice soft, not wanting to stress the fighter any more than he already was. He didn't like seeing the effects of the injuries of one on the other.

"I know, Ratch. No, I just have this fuzzy feeling I'm picking up from Sunny. He's trying to wake up," Sideswipe answered, shifting into a more comfortable position on his side so he could better see the other two. "He just doesn't have the way back yet. I gotta stay up and help him."

Ratchet set his welder down, looking up to check the monitors connected to the yellow twin. Sunstreaker's vital signs had been gaining strength over the last joor. Now as he watched, the improvement was moving faster. For a breem he monitored the mech, scanning his systems to verify the data the screens were showing him and checking with the medical pad from the end of the berth. After a while, he put his scanner down and motioned to the other bot. "Bring him back, Sides."

Sideswipe shuttered his optics and pulled in a deep breath of air through his intakes, letting it out slowly as he turned his focus inwards. He threw open their bond, wrapping his essence around the faint glow that was Sunstreaker. Ratchet watched as the monitors registered the increase of the mech's life force. For a moment, the mech resisted the life support systems, fighting to take control of himself. His intakes hitched, finally evening out into a rhythm that was unsteady and shaky. The affect of the life supports diminished, letting the mech support his own systems. It was a solid hour before either of the twins showed signs of alertness again.

Sunstreaker gave a quiet groan, his dim optics flickering fitfully as he moved towards consciousness. Sideswipe sat up, reaching out and taking a yellow hand in his. "Come on, Sunny, wake up."

"S-s-s-sides…" The breathy moan was barely audible, even in the quiet of the medbay.

"I'm here, Sunny, I'm here."

Ratchet moved to the other side of the yellow mech. "Easy, Sunstreaker. Don't push it. Let yourself adjust."

Slowly, Sunstreaker floated back into awareness. His frame twitched as receptors onlined and his intakes hitched again as his breathing pattern evened out, stabilizing enough that the medic turned off the life support systems. He kept his gaze trained on his brother, letting their bond pull him back from the abyss he had been sinking in. The sound of the medic's voice drew him further into the present. "Sideswipe, Ratchet…"

"That's it, Sunny. We're here," Ratchet let out a sigh of relief. His spark pulsed rapidly, releasing the emotions he had bottled up the past few days. He could relax, now that he knew for certain that Sunstreaker would live.

Finally, the light blue optics completely focused on the surroundings. Sideswipe gave a small, half grin and squeezed the hand he held. "There you are," he cooed.

Sunstreaker squeezed back, hints of a smile on his lips. "'M tired…"

"You should be. I'll tell you right now, I've got a lot yet to fix so you'll be here for a while," Ratchet growled.

The yellow helm rolled to see him. "'M not going anywhere."

"I know. You'll be fine in a few days. You need to rest now though."

"'Kay. Thanks, Ratch…" the yellow mech turned back to his twin. He gave him a rather pitiful look, but Sideswipe only smiled and looked at the medic.

"Ratchet?"

It took less than sixty seconds for Ratchet to nod and for Sideswipe to carefully weave his way through the tangles of wires and lines and clamber up onto the berth with his twin, pulling a thermal blanket up with him, and gently nuzzling the black and yellow helm. It took not even sixty minutes for both to fall into a peaceful and deep recharge under the older medic's guard, the sounds of their soft voices drifting off into silence. It took around sixty hours for Sunstreaker to walk from the medbay, shoulders still slumped in exhaustion and leaning heavily on Sideswipe, but alive and repaired.

********

It was late into the hours of the night when the medic finally returned to his quarters. The staff meeting about the last battle had gone on for longer than it should have. Prime had wanted detailed reports about Sunstreaker and his part of the battle and the outcomes. He wasn't going to deny his Prime the information about the welfare of his warriors, but Ratchet just didn't care to have to relive the events after witnessing the aftermath firsthand. Once was enough, thank you very much.

For a moment, he let the quiet darkness of his room soothe his tired processor. He had gotten some recharge in over the past few days, but making sure the frontliner was repaired had become his top priority. He could have let Wheeljack or someone take over, but he just didn't have it in him to stop when there was a patient in his bay. Especially if it was the Twins. He chuckled to himself, realizing Prowl was right and he was soft for them. Finally, he turned the lights on, using the dimmest setting. He paused, feeling that something was out of place and quickly scanned his surroundings.

Settled on his berth was a glowing cube of high grade energon. Propped against the wall next to it was a painted canvas. It was a picture of him. He was posed by an empty berth in the medbay, holding a rag and carefully cleaning his favorite set of tools. There was no scowl on his face as usual, but he looked thoughtful instead. He saw Wheeljack sitting at the cluttered desk in the office off to the side, but that part of the scene was shadowed, drawing the optics back to the more brightly lit place he stood at. He recognized the scene from the day before, just after Sunstreaker had been released. Carefully, he lifted the painting, turning it over to look for a hint of who it was from. There was a message printed in flowing script on the backside.

_Thanks for all the extra hours you've given us._

It was signed by both Sunstreaker and Sideswipe.

Ratchet smiled. He lifted the cube, giving a silent toast before taking a drink. He placed the painting on a shelf and settled back onto his berth, smile still in place. It didn't matter how much of a pain in the aft they could be. It didn't matter what anyone else thought about them. It didn't matter how they had gotten their injuries. What did matter was that he would gladly give them as many extra hours as he could.

Always.


	2. 38-Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt:**  38-Touch  
>  **Rating:**  PG/K+  
>  **Characters:**  Bluestreak, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Optimus Prime, Prowl  
>  **Word Count:**  2,502  
>  **Time Measurements:**  Astrosecond is about half an earth second. An Orn is roughly two earth weeks.  
>  **Disclaimer:** Transformers is not mine.

It was an impossible situation, of that he was certain.

Things had fallen to pieces the moment the battle had started. All of Prowl's thought-out plans had gone down the drain, but it wasn't due to lack of trying on his part. Somehow, the information Jazz and his team had brought back had been wrong, or the Decepticons had just had a whimsical change in their own plans. Whatever the cause of the past, the events of the present were not going so well, and the future of the war hung in the balance.

And it seemed the outcome would all depend on him.

Optimus Prime, the tall, proud leader of the Autobots knelt before Megatron, the end of the Con's fusion cannon aimed at the side of his blue helm. Behind the gunmetal grey leader, the rest of his army stood, sneering and smirking, laughing at the sight of their final victory being so near. The rest of the Autobots ranged across from them, shifting restlessly, fists clenching useless weapons, unknowing what they should, or could, do next.

They were waiting for someone to do something.

He had the perfect shot lined up, he knew he did. Worse, he knew that many, if not all of them, knew it too. All of his past instructors would have already started yelling at him to take the shot, to quit hesitating. His angle was perfect, the light was in a good position, the wind was low enough not to be a problem, but there was one thing that stopped him from pulling the trigger.

Prime was just too close to danger.

He was scared. What if he missed? What if Megatron moved? Optimus would be shot, and with Ratchet on the other side of the battlefield, such a close range hit to the helm would be fatal. Probably instantly.

It all rested on him. The life of another was at his mercy.

He shook so hard that his armor rattled. His scope wavered, moving with the small, nervous jerks of his hands. His doorwings fluttered, displaying his agitated state for all to see. If any of the others could see him. He was hidden in a rocky outcrop, covered by the scraggly bushes that managed to grow in the desert environment. Only Prime knew his exact position.

He whimpered, processor straining to come up with the right solution. He knew he should take the shot, but his doubt and all the what-if scenarios just wouldn't let go. He knew others were waiting for something to happen, and were thinking it would be him who did it. But he was choking, failing.

And the deep blue optics of the Prime were gazing calmly into his own the whole time.

Which made the whole situation even more stressful for him.

His overly bright optics jumped to the flash of yellow armor as the large mech crept forward, inching into a position just behind a rock pile at a diagonal from their commander. So focused was he on the scene that he missed the approach of another.

A feather light caress touched the bottom of his pedes, making him suddenly squirm at the ticklish contact. He would have turned to see who was with him, but a firm hand on his back prevented him. The touch moved back to his ankles, slowly tracing the grey and black metal up his calves, to his knees, up to his red thighs and to stop and rest at his hips. He felt the heavy weight of the other mech settle against him, bracing his frame against the unyielding ground. Caught, he could do nothing but settle into his firing position, one leg bent, and the other straight to keep him in line with his target.

The hands started to move again, sliding up to his waist, and gliding over his back. The fingers gently dug into the hinges of his doorwings, easing their tension with their massaging strokes. He heard the soft click of the medical access panel being opened on the back of his neck. One hand braced across his shoulders while the other connected a cable with a just as soft sounding snap.

Suddenly, a second set of images overlaid what he saw through his own optics. The other mech was crouched over him, giving him a higher point of view. New information on the environment around them scrolled down a screen over his optic, merging with the information he already had displayed for his use. It was an astrosecond later when a third set of data was added to the mix, the accompanying images from a much closer angle. He calculated the exact distance between the Prime's helm and the end of the cannon. He zoomed in on his target, aiming steady as the trembles left his frame. The hands were rubbing over his plating again, soothing the irritation from his processor at the same time. Waves of reassurance and patience rolled against his storming anxiety, sweeping his worries away.

Bluestreak dragged in a large drought of air through his intakes, held it, and then slowly let it go, releasing the last of his nerves with the warmed exhalation. The rifle in his arms melted into his shoulder, merging with his frame like it was supposed to. He lowered his head, bringing the target in line in the scope. He shuttered one optic, bringing the image into sharper focus. The data and images kept scrolling, a constant string of support from the two mechs. He took one last breath, fully relaxing and steeling his resolve, finger finding and caressing the trigger.

He squeezed.

The world spiraled down to that one point of laser fire. All optics stayed focused on the two commanders. Three sets of optics traced the fired round, the two others still sending their images to him, projected outcomes merging into the data stream on his display screen. He tensed, feeling the rolling emotions of anticipation and battle lust of the others as the bullet neared the target.

Megatron roared as the burning heat hit his extended arm, just where his cannon connected to it.

Sunstreaker launched into motion. His first lunge landed him on Optimus' back, sending the mech to the ground just as the fusion cannon misfired, catching the frontliner on the left hip and thigh. Either falling forward as his leg gave out or just ignoring the damage to his frame, the yellow fighter tackled the Decepticon about the waist, snarling and growling. Blustreak felt the heat on his back as the jetpack fired up, and was pushed into the ground as the red mech disconnected their systems and launched into the air. Sideswipe slammed into Megatron's torso, aiding his twin in taking the bigger mech to the ground in a rattling crash of metal on metal.

The Autobots wasted no time. They charged forward with their battle cries ringing over the land, mixing with the sounds of their guns and cannons firing. Still surprised, the Cons scrambled back, retreating in the face of the wave of angered opponents. Some mechs stopped firing into the fleeing mechs, instead gripping the red and blue armor of their leader and pulling him back. Ratchet was there already, checking for any injuries. Prime waved him away as he stood, his optics on the scuffling fighters.

The Seekers zoomed down from the heavens, joining the raging ball of yellow, red, and grey armor on the ground. Skywarp kicked out, catching Sideswipe dead center on his chest plate and sending the red twin helm over heels away from the brawl. It took both Thundercracker and Starscream to peel the wounded yellow warrior off their leader, and the moment they were all free, the purple Seeker teleported them away from the danger.

He left his hiding place, jogging towards the others. Prime held a hand out to him, welcoming him to his side. "You did well, Bluestreak."

Bluestreak looked up at him, uncertainty in his optics. "But, sir, I didn't…"

Optimus' optics crinkled around the edges, a sure sign the leader was smiling behind his battle mask. "Ah, but you did."

Bluestreak looked away, watching as Ratchet attacked the Twins with his medical supplies. Inferno and Hound were sitting Sideswipe up. He was wearing a goofy grin, the look in his optics a bit dazed. Sunstreaker's optics flickered, growing darker as Ratchet forcefully offlined him. Prime moved off to transform so the injured could be loaded into his trailer, surrounded by Jazz, Ironhide and several other mechs.

"Good shot, Bluestreak," Prowl walked up to him, patting him on the shoulder. The sudden touch made him jump.

"I panicked," he muttered. "I couldn't do it. I could have hit Prime! What if I had missed? It would have all been my fault! I…!"

"Easy there, Bluestreak. None of that matters anymore. You did it. Now the next time we get into a situation like this, you'll know how to handle it. It doesn't matter if you choked. It happens to even the best of us," the black and white mech replied. "What matters is that you were able to work through it and did what you needed to do."

"They helped me," the sniper admitted. "They helped calm me down."

Prowl gave him a knowing smile. "They do that."

"Sides touched me. And when he connected our systems, I could feel Sunny, too. They…they anchored me, I guess."

Prowl chuckled, giving the younger mech a gentle shove in the direction of the other bots. "I don't think they get enough credit. They are capable of a lot more than they show us."

Bluestreak nodded and transformed, following the crowd back to the  _Ark_.

********

~Half Orn Later~

Bluestreak sat at a table in the rec. room with Jazz, Blaster, Hound, and Prowl. The room was getting crowded as mechs came off of their duty shifts and entered to get their evening ration. Jazz was telling jokes, causing laughter to echo around the nearby tables and those who caught on to the jokes. A chorus of greetings went up when Sideswipe entered the room, waving and smiling back to the greeters.

The word was that Sunstreaker had been released from the medbay the cycle before and given permission to return for light duty. His self-repair systems were still working on his leg, and had left him with a limp, but by next cycle he would be back on the full duty roster. Sideswipe had been jarred from his impact with Skywarp's foot and the following tumble, but the large majority of the damage he had taken was minor compared to his usual post-battle state. So it wasn't a surprise to anyone for the red twin to walk in alone, head straight for the dispenser, and turn back to the doors, not stopping to really speak to anyone.

Telling his companions that he would be right back, Bluestreak jumped up and ran after him. "Hey Sides!"

Just outside the doors and only a few steps down the hall, Sideswipe stopped and turned back to watch the gunner approach. "What's up, Blue?"

"I'm sorry it took so long, but this was the first chance I could catch you when you weren't too busy. I just wanted to say thanks for what you did the other day. You really helped me out and I don't know what would have happened had you and Sunny not been there to help. I really appreciate it and I just wanted to say…"

Sideswipe blinked. "Wait, what?"

"The other day, during the battle when Prime was in trouble. I was the only one who could do something and I was too scared and nervous to do it, and you got up in the spot with me and calmed me down. You and Sunny sent me information about the conditions and such. Don't you remember?"

The black helm shook slowly. "Sorry, Blue. Ratchet said my memories of the past few days would be fuzzy for a bit, from the hit Skywarp gave me. I don't really remember."

"Oh," Bluestreak gave him a lost puppy look. "But…if you can't remember…"

"Hey, it's no problem, all right? If you say I helped you out when you needed it the most, that's cool. I'm glad I could be of help. You don't need to say thanks or nothing. We're friends. Friends help each other," Sideswipe carefully brushed the back of his hand over the gunner's cheek.

Bluestreak leaned into the brief touch. "Well, if you're sure…"

He laughed. "C'mon Blue. You know you can count on me to give you a helping hand."

"Yeah, you're right!" Bluestreak perked up, smiling again. "Thanks, Sides. I'll see you in the morning. Tell Sunny 'hi' for me."

"Sure thing," Sideswipe replied, returning the smile. He watched the younger bot skip back into the rec. room, then turned and continued on his way, smirking slightly. He had to juggle his cubes a bit as he rounded the corner and walked straight into Optimus. "Sorry, sir. I didn't see ya."

"It's fine. I have a question for you though," Optimus asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

"I didn't do it," Sideswipe automatically answered with a grin.

Prime gave a disbelieving snort. "You aren't in any trouble, yet. It's just a question."

The red mech shrugged. "Just covering my bases. Whatcha need, boss bot?"

Optimus nodded. "I heard your talk with Bluestreak. I thought you never lied."

Sideswipe nodded this time, adding a shrug to the gesture. "I don't. I told him exactly what I know. I remember helping him, but the specifics are a little fuzzy. Sunny remembers more than me, but Blue just needed to be reassured that we'll help him because he's a friend, and not just because he held the life of others in shaking servos."

Optimus raised his optic ridges. "Well said, Sideswipe."

"Thanks." He gave the Prime a cheeky grin.

"I have one more question for you. What are the words to that one song...? Several of you were singing it a few orns ago and I can't seem to remember the lyrics clearly. Something about touch…"

Sideswipe laughed. "I think I know which song you're talking about. Maybe if you ask nicely Jazz'll get the mechs together and sing it for ya."

"Perhaps I will. Some constructive outlet for their energy would be good," Prime agreed.

Sideswipe sidestepped his leader and continued on his way. "Night, Prime."

"Good night, Sideswipe," the red and blue mech rounded the bend, on the way to see if he could convince Jazz to get several others to sing the song.

Sideswipe smiled as he neared the entrance to his shared quarters. Inspired suddenly, he quietly began to sing.

_You got the touch, you got the power._  
When all hell's breaking loose,  
You'll be right in the eye of the storm.  
You got the heart, you got the motion.  
You know that when things get too tough,  
You got the touch. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song mentioned at the end is The Touch by Stan Bush.


	3. 65-Passing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt:**  65-Passing  
>  **Rating:**  PG/K+, watch for a little language by some mechs  
>  **Characters:**  Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Command Staff members  
>  **Word Count:**  4,043  
>  _'Blah'_  = speaking across a bond

It was just no fun at all.

Sideswipe stared dully up at the ceiling of his very empty quarters. Sunstreaker was out on patrol, the lucky slagger, and had been for awhile now. Sideswipe was still under orders from Ratchet to rest and recover from his most recent repairs and so was not out on patrol, as he should have been on a normal day. While this didn't bother him because it happened so often, at the moment he felt like he didn't need the rest at all. Nothing on his frame was hurting. He felt like he should when he was in top shape. But his fear of being murdered by the Chief Medical Officer while he recharged kept him from being too stupid today.

Suddenly, while trying to think of something to do, it was as if a light bulb flicked on. It was a brilliant idea, and one he couldn't get into trouble for. He just had to figure out who he should go to first. He spent a breem figuring out who to talk to, and just how much luck he would have with each mech he visited.

Satisfied with his plan of attack, Sideswipe ducked out of his room and trotted down the hall.

********

He was deep into his fourth report for the day when the door to his office swished open and a black helm and red shoulder peeked in around the corner. The mech's optics glowed with pent up energy, and his expression was only slightly crazed.

"Heya Prowl!" Sideswipe bounced into the room, ignoring the glare the officer sent him at being disturbed.

"What do you want, Sideswipe?" he asked, in no mood to put up with the frontliner's antics still so early into the morning. It wasn't even mid-shift yet. He had a long list of things he wanted to get done today.

"Weeellll," the red twin drawled, slipping into the chair across the desk from the tactician. "I'm bored. And have lots of energy. So, since it is well known for that to be a deadly combination for me, I was wondering…"

"No, I will not be your source of entertainment."

"No, no! Prowl just listen for a second! I've got it all worked out! You won't have to do a thing…for the most part," Sideswipe pleaded, leaning forward. "I just wanna…"

"No. Now leave. I'm too busy to put up with your antics today."

"But…"

"Sideswipe." There was no mistaking the warning tone in the black and white mech's voice.

For a moment, the red twin stubbornly stayed seated in his chair, arms crossed and pouting like a youngling. Prowl raised an optic ridge meaningfully. With a huff, Sideswipe stood and swept from the room. Sighing and shaking his head, Prowl turned his attention back to the data pad he held. He could already feel the dull ache in his processor and he just knew it was going to be a long day.

********

Sideswipe hummed tunelessly to himself as he practically skipped down the hallway of the officer's offices. His first stop of the day hadn't yielded any success, so he patrolled the hall, hoping to get a bit of inspiration on who he could talk to next. He paused just past a door, his processor whirling with ideas. Grinning, he spun around. He just  _knew_  he'd get what he wanted here.

********

This was not what he had signed on for when he joined the army. He knew it was part of the job and that there was no escaping it as an officer, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Give him a battlefield and a gun any day. Things were just simpler that way. The door to his office opened unannounced and one of the mechs he dreaded seeing the most at the moment flounced in and flopped into the chair across from him.

"Mornin' Hide. Whatcha doing? Can I help?"

"You can get out of here, Sideswipe," Ironhide growled. He had problems enough getting his work done. He didn't need the insane Lamborghini to make it any worse.

"Aww, c'mon now. I'm bored and have a lot of energy, and…"

"I ain't puttin' up with your punk aft because you can't get anyone to play with you. Now beat it!" the older mech raised a fist threateningly. "Get out or I'll throw ya out."

"Oh fine. Be that way," Sideswipe sniffed disdainfully and trotted out of the office, his chin lifted high.

Ironhide sighed, taking some satisfaction from the resounding yelp of the mech failing to see where he was going properly while trying to mimic one of Mirage's moods. He felt sorry for the next mech that would fall into the twin's path.

Though when he really thought about it, he didn't feel that sorry. Everyone should know by now to avoid the red menace when he was going stir crazy. It was their own fault if they didn't.

********

_Well that was a major flop,_ Sideswipe thought as he rubbed his sore chin. He made a mental note to ask Mirage about how to see when he walked like that. He didn't let the two rejections bother him for long. He had kinda felt that going to Ironhide would meet with little success, but it was worth the try. He thought about the mechs left on his list, and carefully selected the next best chance he had. Satisfied with his plan, he moved back up the hall, a bounce in his steps.

********

He knew he should really be catching up on all this work. Data pads were stacked in messy piles all over his desk, and some were even on the floor. Prowl was not going to be happy if he didn't get something done today. It wasn't that he didn't like to do the reports, it was just that he had other things that seemed to be of more importance sometimes. Like the morale of the crew. Surely Prowl and Prime would understand if he took some time from his shift to lend a listening audio to a mech who needed a little bit of comfort. Though, even if they didn't, he would do it anyway.

His door slid open and a red and black blur shot into the room.

"Jazz!"

"Heya, Siders. What's up?" Jazz sat back in his chair, idly toying with a first data pad he could pick up.

"Well, I know how much of a drag it is for you to be doing paperwork, and since I'm bored and full of energy, I thought…"

"Sorry, Sides. Ah really need t' get this done," the third-in-command gestured to the mess between them. "Ah'd love t' help ya find some entertainment, but Ah can't. Some o' this is time sensitive and Prowl'll have my skidplate if Ah don't get it done soon."

Sideswipe nodded. "I understand, and that's why I came. Maybe I could…"

Jazz shook his head. "Sorry Sideswipe. Why don't ya go find someone who is off duty for the day?"

For a moment the red mech just sat there, looking dejected with his shoulders slumped. "Fine then," he managed a shrug and stood. "Later, Jazz." The door closed softly behind him as he slunk back out into the hall.

Jazz frowned and made a note to talk to the other later, after his shift was over. For now though, he needed to get all this work done.

********

_Three strikes and you're out,_ Sideswipe thought as he leaned against the wall outside of Jazz's office. He reviewed the remaining names on his list, not really sure where would be the best to start at. Indifferent to whatever the next outcome would be, but determined to find _something_  to do, he walked down the hall towards his next destination. It would be best to use caution when approaching this mech.

********

He had watched the red menace all morning long. He had kept a camera trained on the unpredictable warrior at all times, never once letting the mech off of a screen. Every single move he had made and every stop at every office was now on tape in his records. He had to be up to something. There was no reason for the mech to be going from officer to officer like this. There had to be a plot afoot.

So he was not surprised when Sideswipe appeared on the camera feed that monitored the hallway just outside his security room. The chime sounded and the frontliner stood there patiently, swinging his arms around and letting his gaze wander. Red Alert just  _knew_  he was up to no good. Quickly making sure his weapons and stasis cuffs were ready, he triggered the door open and glared.

Sideswipe sauntered into the room with a cheery grin. "Hi, Red!"

"Don't you 'hi Red' me, you insufferable menace. I know you're up to something and I plan to stop you right now!"

"Hey, hey!" Sideswipe held up his hands. "I'm not up to anything. I'm just bored and was stopping by to ask…"

"You were trying to find out what information those officers were working with! That way you could send a report back to the Decepticons about it! I've caught you this time!" With that, Red Alert reached for his gun and cuffs.

Sideswipe's optics flared in panic and he threw himself back out into the hallway as the first stun ray hit the wall, just barely missing his shoulder. With a yelp, he tore off down the hallway, transforming and gunning his engine in an attempt to escape the crazy mech chasing him. Red Alert continued to bellow after him, giving up on the chase when he could no longer keep up with the frontliner through the maze of hallways of the  _Ark_.

********

Sideswipe scratched Red Alert off of his list. And after another moment's thought, completely blacked out the name. No sense in trying that one again.

He finally stopped and transformed back into his bipedal mode, just outside the medbay. He quickly looked down the hall, hoping the other Lamborghini hadn't followed. He heaved sigh of relief at the sight of an empty corridor and spent a moment calming his racing fuel pump. He glanced at the medbay doors, then back down the hall.

_Might as well give it a try,_  he thought before keying the doors open. Besides, running away like that hadn't been the best of ideas. He was beginning to feel a dull ache in his side and arm. Maybe Ratchet would be in a better mood.

********

The Chief Medical Officer for the Autobots was glaring at him before the doors had finished opening.

"What the slag do you want?" he growled. "And don't you dare tell me you need something fixed."

"Nah, nothing like that, Ratchet," Sideswipe smiled, giving a shake of his head. "Red Alert just chased me down here so I figured I stop by to see ya. But since you mentioned it, the welds are starting to ache a bit…"

"You just can't stay out of trouble, can you?" the white and red mech slowly began to advance, his favored wrench held loosly in one hand. Sideswipe quickly noted that it was his throwing arm.

"Now, now, Ratch. I'm not trying to get into trouble. I'm just stopping by offices and looking for something to do…"

"'Something to do?'" the medic repeated, optics narrowing. "And what, exactly, were the orders I left you?"

"Not to do any work. But, I'm  _bored_ , Ratchet. And I feel fine, mostly. I'm just looking for something constructive to do…"

"You want something to do, huh?" Ratchet still advanced on the warrior. "I can give you something to do."

"Sure," Sideswipe nodded, an eager look on his face. "What do you have in mind?" He let out a yelp and ducked as the wrench flew within millimeters of his helm.

"Looks like the only way to keep you from causing trouble is to knock you out and tie you down! That will give you something to do and let the rest of us work in peace!" He pulled another wrench from subspace.  
Sideswipe spun and fled, the curses of the medic drifting behind him.

********

This was getting frustrating. He could feel Sunstreaker's amusement over their bond. Despite the dead ends, and his brother's doubts about anyone actually listening and then letting him help, Sideswipe wasn't going to give up. He was going to find something to do today, whether it drove someone insane or not. Determined, he trotted off down the hall to his next destination.

********

The lab was eerily quiet. Wheeljack didn't really mind the silence, but it was a bit unnerving. Like the calm before the storm. He just hoped that his current experiment didn't backfire, again. Ratchet hadn't been in a good mood all day.

So it was no surprise that when the doors whooshed open and a red and black blur charged into the large room, Wheeljack himself leapt a few feet into the air.

"Sideswipe!"

"Hi, Jack! Whatcha workin' on?" the frontliner stopped beside him, peering around his arm to get a better look at the pieces spread out on the table before the engineer.

"Oh, uh, nothing much, Sideswipe. It's just a project Jazz suggested," he shrugged it off, hoping that if he made it sound simple and boring the other would leave.

"Cool! So, what is it?"

Luck really wasn't on his side today though. Wheeljack frowned, wondering what he should tell him. It wasn't top secret or anything, but it would be something vital for Jazz and his team if it was successful. "Well, it's supposed to be a type of scrambling device, I guess. It could be hooked up to a terminal and send out faulty codes to corrupt any computer system it could get in to."

"Oh," Sideswipe looked like he actually understood was the device was going to be used for. "So, I'm bored and was wondering…"

Wheeljack flashed his helm fins, a sudden, brilliant idea forming in his processor. "Sorry, buddy. Some of these wires don't want to work right and the whole thing could decide to explode at some point."

"But that's why it's good to have another set of optics around. I may not know what you're doing, but I can watch. Maybe even be the one to call Ratchet when it does go boom."

The inventor noted the way he said 'when' and not 'if.' That put a bit of a damper on his confidence in his own skills. Scratching that idea off of his list, another quickly replaced it.

"Ratch has you on the off-duty roster because of your repairs, right?" He hoped to Primus he did, or else this idea wasn't going to work.

Sideswipe made a face. "Yeah, and I'm bored out of my processor because of it. That's why…"

"You'd better get back to your quarters and rest then. The Doc yells at me enough as it is. I don't want to get in trouble for sending you back in for repairs so soon," Wheeljack put on his best I'm-sorry-it's-for-your-own-good-and-my-skid-plate look.

The red mech gave an explosive sigh. "Fine then." He turned and left, muttering about Primus laughing at his bad luck as the door closed behind him.

Giving his own sigh, Wheeljack went back to work, attaching two wires to places on the computer chip that would power the device. Only a moment later did his optics widen. "Oh slag!" He quickly backpedaled, barely ducking behind a shelf in time for the whole experiment to go up in smoke. Yeah, he had no luck whatsoever today.

********

_That was it!_  Sideswipe thought as he stormed down the halls and back to the offices of the officers.  _There's one more I can try._

_'Give it up, bro.'_

_'Oh frag off, you big dandelion.'_

Sunstreaker pushed against their bond, amusement, irritation, and a soothing pulse meant to brush Sideswipe's frustrations away.  _'They just don't realize what they're passing up.'_

_'Well, I'll give this one more try. Surely, he'll let me help with something.'_

_'Good luck with that,'_  Sunstreaker cut the link, but didn't quit observing the bubbling mass of energy that was his twin. He just hoped he was there to see the outcome of the whole fiasco later.

********

He didn't even raise his helm at the sound of the door chime. "Enter," he called, optics riveted to the data pad he held and the information contained within. He glanced upwards, as the door closed behind his visitor. "Sideswipe? Is everything all right? You look a little…frazzled."

"Nah, I'm good enough, Prime," Sideswipe helped himself to a chair, leaning it back on two legs and crossing his arms.

"All right then. Is there something I can do for you?" Optimus sat back in his desk chair, laying the data pad down to focus his attention on the warrior.

"Well, Ratchet has me on the off-duty roster until he sees fit, and I'm bored at the moment. So instead of getting into trouble and doing a prank, I thought I would try a change of pace and see if anyone needed any help," Sideswipe answered. Optimus noted that the look in his optics was honest.

"I see. I'm sorry that I can't be of any help to you at the moment, Sideswipe, but I have a lot of work I need to complete for today," he said.

"I can…"

"Please, Sideswipe. You know I would help you if you needed it, but I'm sure you can find someone else to help you find something to do. Besides, isn't Sunstreaker due back from patrol soon?"

"Yeah, he is, but…"

"Sideswipe," Optimus sighed.

For a moment the red mech looked like he wanted to argue and protest, but in the end he stood, with only a frown. "Thanks, Prime, sir." He was gone before Prime could reply. Heaving another sigh through his intakes, he picked up his data pad, making a mental note to have Jazz find out what the bothering the younger bot.

********

_'Any luck?'_

Sideswipe huffed and crossed his arms as he stomped down a random hall. He had just been wandering around, looking for something even slightly interesting.  _'No. None of them would listen to me.'_

A trickle of irritation slid into their bond. Sunstreaker wasn't exactly happy with the outcomes either. He had thought at least that someone would listen to his twin.  _'I guess it doesn't matter now though. I'm back. Let me hit the racks and I'll meet you at the rec. room for a cube.'_

_'I don't wanna be in there right now. I'm pouting.'_

His spark swirled as Sunstreaker's light laughter filtered through. It was hard to get him to laugh at all sometimes. Sideswipe felt some of his tension fall away at the feeling.  _'Fine. You get the cubes, I'll meet you there, and we'll crash in our room and watch some of those movies Blue and Smokey lent us.'_

Sideswipe felt his mood perking up even more.  _'Sounds great, bro.'_

_'Meet you in a few breems, then.'_

_'Deal.'_  He dampened the link between them and reversed his steps. The day shift was beginning to draw to a close. He was quite amazed it had taken him nearly all day to talk to all the officers like he had. Then he reflected that at least, he didn't have quite as much energy now as he did when he first onlined. So maybe some good had come from the day.

********

The officers sat at a table in the rec. room, enjoying a relaxing cube of energon after a long day.

"Primus, Ah got, like, nothin' done today," Jazz said as he stretched. He sighed as his back struts popped with the movement.

Prowl nodded. "I will have to agree. I managed to get a few of my reports completed, but not as much as I would have liked."

"I'm not even gonna tell you how unproductive I was today," Ironhide grimaced.

"So I assume it is safe to say none of us got much accomplished," Optimus stated. Those gathered around the table nodded in agreement.

"It would have been nice to have an extra set of hands to help out today. Too bad there wasn't really anyone we could have asked," Wheeljack sighed, just as Sideswipe passed the group.

"Yeah, Ah would've liked t' have some extra help. Probably would've thinned down the stack a bit," Jazz added.

"At least Sideswipe wasn't any trouble today. I just had one interruption from him this morning. He came in to my office to tell me he was bored and was looking for something to do," Prowl said.

Red Alert nodded vigorously. "I watched him all day! It has to be his fault none of you got anything done! He stopped by every officer's office, including my security room! Mark my words, that red devil was up to no good today!"

"He stopped to tell me he was bored and wanted to help and…wait, is that why he went to everyone?" Prime asked. Slowly, there were answering nods from all around the table.

"You don't think…" Prowl trailed off, his optics brightening.

"Woah, you're saying that Siders was asking us for something to do during his free time?" Ironhide wondered.

"I think that is exactly what happened," Prime answered.

"Woah," Jazz sat back in his seat. "Did anyone give him something to do?" Helms shook all around.

"I thought he was just there looking for someone to entertain him," Prowl admitted.

They all looked up, slightly shocked looks on their faceplates as the red mech passed by, carrying two cubes of energon.

"Hey there, Siders!" Jazz called out, motioning the mech over to them.

Sideswipe stopped, grinning. The expression looked a little forced. "What's up, Jazz?"

"Well, we were just wonderin' somethin'. You're still off duty tomorrow, right?" The red mech nodded. "And you were looking for somethin' to do today, right?" Another nod. "You still up for that tomorrow then?"

Slowly, Sideswipe's grin turned into a sly smirk. "Oh well, jeez, Jazz." He held up his two cubes. "You see, Sunny's off tomorrow too, and we thought we'd spend the day catching up on some movies."

"Oh, well, that's cool," Jazz agreed.

"Yeah," Sideswipe never lost his smirk. "But, I can't say that you let a golden opportunity pass you by because it wasn't Sunny who was asking if he could help you out." He paused for a moment, helm tilted to the side as he thought. "Though, I will say that I was disappointed that none of you even bothered to wave as I passed by." With that, the red twin turned and headed to the doors. Sunstreaker was waiting there for him, fresh from the wash racks after his day on patrol duty. The yellow warrior shot them a smug look before turning and exiting the room after his twin.

The Prime and his officers turned back to their drinks, looking a little off-put. None of them said anything for a long while.

"In hindsight, that was the perfect opportunity," Prowl stated, his doorwings twitching.

"And we just brushed him off, didn't even give him a chance," Ironhide frowned. "Maybe we should listen to him a bit more."

Jazz snorted and shook his helm with a small smirk. "Ah'd be careful o' that, Hide."

Red Alert looked slightly fritzy. "It's a conspiracy! He is deliberately trying to confuse us! He could be setting up a plan for the Decepticons! He needs to be...!" His ranting was cut off when Ratchet reached over and forcefully offlined his vocalizer. The security director's optics grew over bright, lines of white beginning to show as his panic kicked up a notch. The medic growled a warning when the crazy Lamborghini started to rise out of his chair to make a mad dash back to his office. Wisely, he sat back down, and settled on glaring right back.

They sat in silence for a breem, thinking about the whole event. Finally, Optimus heaved a sigh. "Well slag."

No one else had anything to add to that statement.


	4. 67-Snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt:**  67-Snow  
>  **Rating:**  K  
>  **Characters:**  Sideswipe, Ratchet, Optimus Prime, various others  
>  **Word Count:**  1,645  
>  **Disclaimer:** Transformers is not mine.

Ratchet grumbled under his breath as he transformed and entered the shining halls of the Ark. He shook the nasty slush off of his feet, but it did little to improve his temper. He really needed to hit the wash racks before he did anything else. He growled when he felt some of the gunk slip down inside his back plates.  
Ratchet hated snow.

While the stuff was pretty to look at when the surface was unbroken and the sun shone on it just right, it became a royal pain in the aft once it was time for the bots to venture outside. The entrance to the Ark as covered in the muddy mixture created by tires and feet. The maintenance crew was not a happy crew at the moment. The stuff was hard to completely clean up, what with all the salt and cinders put down on the roads that mixed with the mud and snow and was ground into every crevice by the steady stream of mechs leaving or returning to the base. But not only that, as it melted, it got tracked further into the halls, leaving a dried trail either to the command deck, or the wash racks, or even to the medbay, depending on the incoming mechs.

The old medic was amused to a point about it though. Sideswipe, the glitched prankster that he was, had yet to make a single misstep this month. Not even an astrosecond late to his meetings and duties, no pranks of any kind, not a hint of  _anything_  that could get the red hellion into trouble. Trouble which would end with him, a used toothbrush, a happy maintenance crew, and a nice sparkling floor. The red and white bot couldn't help but grin at the picture his processor formed. They all knew that he would slip eventually. Ratchet had even put up a bet about it on New Year's Eve. One month, no trouble. The prize: two weeks free reign for any prank he could come up with. Unfortunately, by some twist of fate, the red devil was  _winning._

Outside yet, several of the younger mechs were busy hurling the powdery stuff at each other, laughing and teasing. Internally, he sighed. It was refreshing to see them having fun. They had even managed to create a minibot sized snowman and were working on what promised to be a life sized Prime. Whether they succeeded remained to be seen. The war had taken so much from them all, and still was. He couldn't begrudge them a little entertainment.

At least, he couldn't until a snowball exploded against the back of his helm.

He whipped around, optics narrowed dangerously. "Who did that?" he snarled. The handful of mechs stood frozen in place, optics wide and slow grins forming on their faceplates. Some had stopped in mid throw, their snowball still clasped in hand. Others were in the motion of diving back behind their make-shift shelters, aiming for more ammunition. Of all the bots gathered, picking out the culprit wasn't going to be easy. "Speak up now, or your next maintenance check will be slow and painful!"

None of the bots so much as twitched.

"Fine then!" Making a mental note as to who was all present, the cranky medic spun on his heel and prepared to storm his way into the base.

**Splat!**

Ratchet whipped around, his favorite wrench ready to retaliate. He blinked his optics a few times in a slight bit of confusion. Every mech was still in the same position. The remains of a snowball slumped down the back of his neck and onto the floor. His patented Glare of Doom slowly crept onto his face. He raised his wrench up so they could all see it, so they could know the danger they were in was real.

"Who did that?" he asked slowly. A few grins spread wider, but no one answered the fuming medic. After a breem of complete silence, the CMO snorted. "Very well.  _If_  you insist on playing this game, then I will assure you, your humiliating loss will be remembered for all time."

"Issuing challenges to the crew now, Ratchet?"

**CLANG!**

Ratchet spun around, jumping a good foot into the air with a yelp. Behind him, Prime was crouched down and holding one hand over the rather good sized dent in his helm. The medic hadn't even heard him approach! In Ratchet's opinion, it served him right to get a bump on the head for startling the other bot. To make matters more interesting, another snowball decided to become friends with his helm again. He growled as he shot pure death rays from his optics at the  _still_  unmoving bots.

After a moment, Optimus straightened and gave his CMO a knowing look.

He was in on it! The little glitch!

Before he could open his mouth, at least seven more snowballs found their targets in various places on his frame. Prime had easily sidestepped from the line of fire, safe should one of the projectiles have gone astray. Ratchet whipped around, but to his dismay, none of the bots facing him had moved even a centimeter. There was no evidence on the ground of a mech quickly getting back into position after a fast movement either. The snow wasn't even disturbed by hands quickly scooping it up. His blue optics narrowed…there was something really fishy about this…

Ignoring the Prime for the moment, the medic stalked forward. Nothing. None of them flinched. None of them wavered. Jazz, Bluestreak, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Hound, Mirage, Bumblebee, and Smokescreen could have been colorful stone statues for all he knew. He heard Optimus moving behind him as he further left the safety of the Ark. He looked over the mechs before him again, something not sitting right in his tanks about the whole scene.

Then, suddenly, it all clicked.

Time slowed as Ratchet cursed and ducked. The nine mechs surrounding him launched their attacks as the holographic image supplied by Hound faded away. They had built make-shift forts and barriers to hide behind and had been busy building their ammunition up while Prime distracted their target.  
Sideswipe stood up tall behind one of the barriers. "Charge!" he yelled, jumping over the wall of snow and running at Ratchet.

The older medic was no fighter. Everyone on the Ark knew it, but would never say anything to the mech's face about it. Here, he was outnumbered and far outclassed. The nine bots descended on him, but he didn't give up without a rather spectacular fight.

It was over in a breem.

Covered from chevron to feet in the chilly snow, Ratchet glared at his foes, who were laughing in their victory. Sideswipe was grinning innocently at him, tossing one last snowball from hand to hand. The other mechs were fighting grins, admiring their handy work from a safe distance.

The medic snarled at the red mech. "You'll wish you'd never been sparked when I'm through with you!"

"Now, now, Ratch, let's just talk this out," the red mech's voice was sweet sounding, but the medic wasn't having any of it. "It's just a bit of fun. A harmless prank."

"We had a bet! You didn't even last to the end of the month!"

"Aha! " Sideswipe held up a finger. "I had an even higher bet come up. You know how it is. Highest bidder and all that." He turned that finger to point at their Prime.

All fell quiet as a black and white police car drove up the road and transformed. Prowl calmly surveyed the scene before him, shaking excess snow from his doorwings as he did so. Seeing the Prime, he decided to let things stand. All of them were in need of a break. There had barely been time to rest between Decepticon attacks lately. He wasn't going to stop their fun, unless it got out of hand completely. He nodded to the standing mechs as he walked to the entrance.

Right next to the path was a very life-like snowman in the shape of their resident medic. Prowl paused to observe it for a moment. "This is well done. Whose idea was it?"

"Mine," Sideswipe answered with a cheeky grin.

"Of course," Prowl started walking again, just as the snowman let out a very colorful curse. "Motion activated sensors. A nice touch." He vanished into the  _Ark_ , while the nine bots burst into laughter and the snowman continued to curse.

Prime smiled at his soldiers. "Well done, bots. Well done." Laughing, they trooped back into the Ark.

Sideswipe paused when he reached Ratchet. "So…" he drew the word out slowly. "You know I had Red Alert tape all of this, don't you?"

"You little glitch…!" Ratchet snarled. "When I get free…!"

"Always with the threats, Ratchet." Sideswipe shook his head. "Anyways, your bet was a good one, until Prime got in on it."

Ratchet couldn't help his curiosity. "And what, exactly, was the deal he made with you?"

The red frontliner's grin was positively feral. "One month. No rules. No one is off limits. All I had to do was set up this trap for you." That grin only seemed to get bigger, scarier. "I'll see you around Ratchet."

With that, the red twin sauntered into the  _Ark_ , leaving the fuming medic behind. After a second, with an angry cry, the white and red mech clawed his way free from his snowman prison. He stomped his way into the base and to his medbay, darkly wishing that someone,anyone, was just waiting for him. Laughter drifted from the rec. room and followed him down the halls. He needed a punching bag right now.

This next month was not going to be fun.

The moral of the story: To survive winter on the  _Ark_ , don't tempt fate. Sideswipe will win.


	5. 66-Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt:**  66-Rain  
>  **Rating:**  K  
>  **Characters:**  Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Various Others  
>  **Word Count:**  919  
>  **Disclaimer:** Transformers is not mine.

He hated mud.

It was nasty. It was filthy. It was full of who-knew-what organic materials. It was disgusting. It was a nuisance. It was sticky. It was slimy. It was goopy. It was gloppy. It got everywhere. It got under armor. It got into joints. It got stuck between gears. It got wires crossed. It got smeared over armor. It got spread over optics. It got through gaps and clogged up vents. It made moving difficult and patrols were miserable in it.

All in all, mud was the worst thing on this planet. And he hated it with a passion.

He really didn't mind the storms that caused the mud. He actually enjoyed watching the display of the planet's powers. The wind could be a gentle caress one moment and a violent vortex of destruction the next. The rain could be a soft pitter-patter against his metal frame at one point, and then be stones of ice within a few more seconds. The lightning was brilliant, fast, and deadly. The thunder was sometimes obnoxiously loud. Both reminded him of himself and his twin. One was often the loud distraction while the other slipped around and struck the attack.

The time he liked most was after the rain. It was for those first few brief moments of emerging from inside the  _Ark_ , still all nice and clean, that he didn't mind the mud. It was then that the air was light and fresh. The artist in him could appreciate the organic environment more in those moments, seeing the vibrant colors that had been muted with dust some time ago.

But right now, he hated the mud.

His systems were running hot, still on high alert. The Decepticons had just finished their traditional retreat, but there was still the chance of a sneak attack. One never really knew what to expect with them sometimes. The mech next to him sighed, relaxing as the next few moments clicked by with no sign of any return. They grinned at each other, covered from helm to pedes in the icky mud. They had survived another battle, and with only minor damage this time. That in and of itself was something to be happy about, but the sensation of the slippery mud sliding down under his armor put a slight damper on his mood.

They joined the throng of Autobots in the trek back to the  _Ark_ , calling out to others in celebration of their victory. Optimus and his officers didn't try to stop the welling of their emotions, but just kept them in line long enough to reach their home. No one was exactly sure of who had thrown the first handful of mud, but the  _splat_  it made against the Prime's helm silenced them all. He turned back to his troops slowly, meeting the gaze of each one. It was a deadly atmosphere, and the armor of the bots seemed to puff out, trying, heroically, to keep their laughter inside. He calmly bent down, scooped up a generous amount of the squishy substance, and ran his optics back over the crowd before him.

Chaos ruled as suddenly all of the officers joined their commander in pelting the stunned soldiers they lead. Some mechs dove for what little cover they could find, mainly behind each other. Others simply refused to move and retaliated, cackling in glee at the rare chance to, hopefully, get away with something like this. He looked to his brother, a wicked smirk on his face. Without a need to talk or plot, they both charged forward, intent on their selected target.

Prowl, with his own target in mind, never saw them coming.

They effortlessly dragged the second-in-command to the ground, rolling him around to ensure that the mud got  _everywhere_. Of course, Jazz retaliated against them in return, but they willingly retreated, satisfied with the outcome. They quickly joined in the swarm that was trying to pull a laughing Optimus to the ground for the same treatment.

It was later, when their excess energy was gone, that the officers decided a clean-up crew would be needed to clear the mess the entrance to the ship had become. Muddy footprints left paths down multiple hallways, and some mechs had even made handprints on the walls for added decoration. He and his brother were happily volunteered for the act, and told so cheerfully by Prowl himself, whose humor seemed immune to the muddy globs sliding down from his chevron. And no, they couldn't go to the wash racks first. It was left unsaid that he was going straight there himself, after he dealt with them.

Not really surprised by the turn of events, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe set to work. The sooner they finished, the quicker they could get rid of the mud on themselves. A cleaning punishment was so routine for them that they found they didn't mind it so much at the moment, as content as they were with everything. Jazz laughed at them, but quickly stopped when Prowl told him that he would be joining them, since he had been the one to start the whole ordeal in the first place. Other mechs began to leave, talking, joking, and laughing about the Great Mud Fight and hoping that Red Alert had gotten it on camera. The Twins smiled, not caring if the event had been recorded or not.

Their metal frames may have been muddy, but their memories would always be as clear as the air after the rain.


	6. 32-Sunset

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt:**  32-Sunset  
>  **Rating:**  PG/K+  
>  **Characters:**  Sideswipe, Ratchet, Optimus Prime, Mirage  
>  **Word Count:**  1,694  
>  **Warnings:** Mentions of character death  
>  **Universe:** Movieverse  
>  **Disclaimer:** Transformers is not mine
> 
> This chapter and the next two go together. I'll have them up soon.

The silver mech shuttered his optics as he leaned up against the building, tilting his head back. One hand drifted to rest over his spark while the other clenched into a fist at his side. He let out a long sigh from his intakes, his processor spinning out of his control.

"…swipe? Sideswipe?" the voice seemed to call to him from far away.

He slowly opened his dim optics and rolled his helm to see the speaker. "Hey Ratch," he answered softly.

"Are you all right?" the medic asked, reaching out to brush his fingers over the silver helm crests.

"Mmhmm," he hummed, leaning into the touch. "Just takin' a break."

"Do you need anything? For the pain?"

"No thanks. It's already startin' to fade," Sideswipe's head lulled away and his optics flickered as he shifted his gaze. "Another sunset," he sighed.

The CMO looked at the dazzling display. Reds, oranges, and yellows blazed across the sky. Clouds ranged from silvery pale pink to deep navy and violets. The sand glowed golden brown and the water glittered in various shades of blue. It was a stunning sight several Cybertronians were still in awe of.

His companion wasn't one of those bots.

"Yeah, another one," Ratchet echoed his sigh in reply. "Why don't you go get some recharge? I'll find someone else to cover you."

Sideswipe dropped his hand from over his spark. He gave the older mech a smirk, but it was only a shadow of his usual expression. "Nah, I'll finish it. It's just a simple patrol. See ya!" The warrior skated off without waiting for a reply.

"Glitch," Ratchet muttered, turning to go back inside. He glanced back over his shoulder for just a moment and turned around in time to come face plate to chest plate with Optimus Prime. "Sir!"

The Autobot commander chuckled, clasping the smaller bot on the shoulder. "Easy there, my friend." He looked out at the retreating form. His voice dropped to a softer volume. "How is he?"

Ratchet frowned, moving to stand beside his leader and crossing his arms. "It's not good, sir. I've been scanning him more frequently and all the scans report that his spark is failing. Doesn't help that he won't take anything for the pain and won't recharge."

Prime retracted his battle mask and mirrored his medic's expression. "Is there anything you can do?"

Ratchet shook his helm. "Nothing. His spark is sending out pulses that aren't being answered. The distress is turning into pain and will eventually become too much. It's the typical result of a broken bond."

"When will his spark give in?"

"The signs of stress are getting worse. I'll be surprised if he lasts the orn."

Optimus nodded. "Should I remove him from active duty?"

"Primus, no!" Ratchet exclaimed. "Despite his condition, he's still a frontliner. He needs an outlet for his energy. He'll get into trouble if you take that away from him. He'll fade faster with nothing to distract him."

The semi truck let out a tired sigh. "Somehow I doubt his pranks would be up to par with what we are used to."

"Probably not. Have you had a chance to question the new arrivals further?"

"Not as of yet. He always seems to be close by when I get the chance to ask if any of them have more news about Sunstreaker," Optimus answered.

"Hmm. May I make a suggestion, sir?" Ratchet asked after a moment of thinking.

"Go ahead."

"Talk to Mirage. He's pretty shaken up about being the one who told Sideswipe his brother is dead. It will be harder on him when Sideswipe gives up completely."

Prime shuttered his optics and rocked back on his pedes. "I will speak with him about it. Keep me informed of Sideswipe's…situation."

"Yes sir," Ratchet replied. They watched the sunset for a few more moments before turning their separate ways.

********

_"Sideswipe…"_  The voice was soft, a mere whisper on the wind. The silver mech glanced back over his shoulder, a smile beginning to form, only to fade when empty air greeted him. He sighed, turning his optics back to the sunset. The air to his left shimmered and the white and blue Noble appeared. "Sideswipe?"

"Hey Raj," he tried to summon up a grin for the mech, but failed to get the full expression on his face. "What's up?"

The Towers bot shook his head. "Nothing. I just…"

Sideswipe let out a weary sigh. "It's not your fault, Mirage. I would have found out one way or another. I'm kinda glad it was you though. You were  _with_  him, at least for a while. You stayed with him. He wasn't alone. The only thing I can say to you about it is thank you."

Mirage gave a huff. "I wouldn't be thanking me for anything right now."

"Maybe, but what would you rather I do? I'm tired. I don't feel like yelling and shouting and tearing things to pieces. I'd rather try to be constructive in my last days."

Golden optics shuttered at the last words. "I'm so sorry…"

"Don't be," the silver mech replied with a shrug. "Can you tell me again?"

The Noble nodded. "My team came across his on our way here. From what it looked like, they had been ambushed while finding a place to rest. Sunstreaker was the only one online when we got there, and was gravely injured. The Decepticons attacked while we were trying to help him. We were overwhelmed and captured. We managed to escape, but I never found Sunstreaker again."

Sideswipe was silent for few long breems. Mirage started to move off to give him some privacy, but stopped at the sound of his voice. "Thanks Mirage," he said quietly.

The spy nodded in acknowledgment. "I'm just sorry I couldn't bring him back to you."

"Yeah…"

Mirage continued on his way, making a small bow to the Prime as he passed. Optimus nodded in return and refocused his attention on the other.

"Sideswipe?"

"Heh. I used to have to pull a huge prank to get everyone's attention. Tonight I just have to stand here," he turned and looked up at his leader. "Yes Optimus? I need to get back to my patrol."

"Hound has taken the rest of your shift for tonight. I wanted to speak with you. Ratchet recommended I leave you on the active duty roster. Do you felt up to that?"

The silver shoulders shrugged. "Yeah. It helps. I don't need to be treated like a sparkling. I can still hold my own." He frowned at the mention of someone else finishing his job.

The Peterbilt nodded, continuing before the mech could protest against being off duty. "I thought that's how you would respond. Ratchet has also told me there is nothing he can do to stop this. Is there anything I can do?"

A crooked smirk graced the other's face. "Use the Matrix to bring Sunny back?"

"That I can not do."

"Well in that case, no, there's nothing you can do."

"Sideswipe…"

"Don't Prime. I can't stop what's happening and even if I could, I wouldn't. I don't want to go on without him. I know others made jokes about me at first because my alt. mode isn't the top of the line and my choice of paint color is so different. They don't understand. I'm not the best without Sunny. I have no desire to be  _anything_  without him. We promised each other long ago that where one went, the other would follow. His spark is gone and mine is following," Sideswipe looked from his commander to the vanishing sunset. "Every time I see the sun go down I sink just that much further away. It only reminds me that he's gone. Stop trying to convince me to stay here. Please."

Optimus put a hand on the other's shoulder. "Very well. But you know your limits. If you can't go on anymore, tell me or Ratchet."

"Sure thing, sir," Sideswipe leaned into the contact, as he had with Ratchet. "Can I ask you for something?"

"You may."

"Since I'm off duty now…will you watch the sunset with me? It hurts to watch it alone…"

"Of course," Optimus pulled the smaller bot back against his chest, wrapping his other arm around him. Sideswipe slumped in the embrace, his optics dimming. Prime supported the silver frame, every once in a while soothing a hand down an arm or a side in a gesture of comfort. Clouds were quickly moving in, hiding the sinking sun from their view. Within breems, the display was over and the only light came from the base behind them and their optics. Distant flashes began to appear further out over the ocean.

"Storm's coming in," Sideswipe said softly.

Optimus hummed in agreement. "Let's get the base prepared then." He looked down at the other bot. "Or on second thought, I'll get the base locked down and you go get some recharge."

Sideswipe smiled. "Oh fine, Ratchet." The Autobot leader released the warrior and they turned to head back to the base.

The red and blue mech chuckled. "Just don't let him know that I was the one to convince you. He was complaining about that to me just a bit ago."

"All right," Sideswipe shook his head, a small grin on his lips."I won't tell if you don't tell I asked you to watch the sunset with me."

"Deal."

They walked quietly back to the maze of buildings, stopping at the command center. Prime watched the younger mech struggle with something for a moment, emotions flitting over his faceplates. Finally he spoke. "Thanks, Optimus. Not just for this evening, but for…everything."

"You're welcome, Sideswipe. And I want to thank you, for all you and your brother have done for me," he brushed the back of a hand against the crested helm. "Now go get some rest."

"Yes sir."

Optimus watched as the mech disappeared towards the barracks, his spark heavy at the impending loss. Sideswipe glanced back at him one last time, and the Prime briefly wondered if Sideswipe would be alive to see the next sunset.


	7. 70-Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt:**  70-Storm  
>  **Rating:**  PG/K+  
>  **Characters:**  Sideswipe, Optimus Prime, Ratchet, Various Others  
>  **Word Count:**  3,133  
>  **Universe:** Movieverse  
>  **Disclaimer:** Transformers is not mine.
> 
> This one follows directly after Sunset.

He hit the atmosphere hard, shuddering as the forces tore at his metal frame. He didn't have the energy to struggle to stay on his course and let the gravity of his descent take him where it would. He broke through the upper layers with a bright flash of flame and was instantly hit with raging winds that pushed him further from his destination.

Electricity flared around him, attracted to the friction his pod made as it sliced through the air. Systems scrambled from the influx, leaving him careening through the sky without a way to guide his landing. He momentarily blacked out as the extra energy surged through him.

He quickly came back to consciousness as the warmth of his body was pulled out suddenly. He felt the liquid close around him and transformed as fast as his damaged parts would allow. The currents yanked at him, and his solid metal weight only made it harder to resist being dragged down. He flailed, kicking with his legs and pulling with his arms until he finally found which direction was up and broke the surface of the salty water.

He gasped through his mouth, trying to pull air in without getting more water in his intakes. His optics focused and refocused, trying to find anything that wasn't water. Waves pushed at him, forcing him in whatever direction it went. He went under several more times and warnings raced through his processors, telling him of the strain his body was in and couldn't take much more of.

Finally, after what felt like vorns of being tossed around like a piece of scrap, he felt shifting solids under his pedes. He fought, dragging his frame into shallower waters and then out of it completely. His weak scans showed that it wasn't a big patch of land, but it was enough for him at the moment. He pulled himself close to a cluster of large rocks, coughing water out of his intakes and collapsing as the storm raged on around him. His spark pulsed, exhausted but warmer than he had felt it in many, many vorns.

With a sigh, his slipped offline, confident he was as close to his goal as he had ever been.

********

The storm was still going strong by midnight. Several of the Autobots had left their quarters to huddle in the command center. A couple of them had slipped back into recharge there in the presence of others, but most were finding other ways of passing the time. The few humans on duty simply tried to avoid close contact with any of the Cybertronians. They weren't too keen on being near metal lightning rods, even though they were inside and safe from the storm. They just weren't going to chance it.

Optimus Prime sat at his terminal, one optic on the multiple screens and the other watching his crew. He was amused to watch their antics, even if they kept them low key while trying not to disturb the others who were resting. One mech who was sitting in a darkened corner, neither in recharge or talking with the others, caught his gaze.

Sideswipe had one knee pulled up and rested his crossed arms on it, with his chin propped up on them. His optics were dim, telling of his lack of recharge to all who looked at him. He sat quietly, gaze half shuttered as he observed his comrades. His lips quirked in tiny smiles every once in a while at the activities of the others.

Optimus looked away and turned his attention to his companion when footsteps stopped next to him.

"I should just tranq him and force him into recharge right there," Ratchet grumbled, frowning at the mech.

Optimus chuckled. "He would be very displeased with you should you attempt it."

"I'd gladly take any retaliation from him if I knew that I had helped him in some way, whether he wanted the help or not," the medic sighed. He leaned his hip against the console, crossing his arms. "Bet I could hit him from here."

The Prime smiled and nodded. "It would be an easy shot, compared to ones you've pulled off against both him and his brother before."

Ratchet nodded as Sideswipe suddenly looked up and over at the door. His optics flared brightly for a moment and dimmed back to their previous level. The silver warrior slowly rose, skating over to open the door a bit and watch the weather outside. Lightning made his armor glitter and the play of shadows reminded the medic of just how dangerous he still was. "What is he doing now?" He narrowed his optics as one silver hand was raised to rest over the bot's spark.

The flame painted commander hummed. "Maybe he had another pulse."

"Probably. At his last check up he said they were coming closer together."

They watched the mech as he stood at the hanger door. After several breems, a look of excitement graced his features and his frame began to shake. His other hand gripped the metal doorframe hard enough to leave finger shaped dents. He started mumbling softly, growing more agitated as time went on.

The Autobot leader and his Chief Medical Officer weren't the only ones to notice the frontliner's change in behavior. Bluestreak walked over to stand next to Sideswipe, trying to get the other's attention. When the fighter looked at the Praxian, his whole face had transformed. They could see more of his former self in his delighted expression. Other mechs stopped their conversations to see what was going on.

"What's wrong, Sideswipe?" Bluestreak asked, reaching out to place a hand on a silver plated arm.

"Nothing's wrong. It's okay. He's here," Sideswipe looked around at them all, his optics shining nearly too bright. "It's okay! He's here! I can feel him! We have to go find him!"

"Sideswipe?" Optimus stood and took a few steps forward. "Who, Sideswipe?"

"Sunny! I can  _feel_  him again!" The silver bot raced forward, gripping his commander's arms tightly. "We have to go out and get him!"

"Sideswipe…the scanners aren't picking up any signals," Prime shook his head, bring his own hands up to hold on to the younger mech. "He's not…"

"Yes he is! Come on!" Sideswipe tugged on the larger frame, urging the other to follow. "We have to hurry!" He stumbled in his haste to get back to the door.

Optimus caught him more firmly and Ratchet stepped closer, gripping the crested helm in both of his hands. "Sideswipe. Focus. Look at me."

His plating was vibrating with whatever emotions were rushing through him. After an astrosecond, he pulled his gaze to meet the medic's. "Ratch, we have to go!"

"Sunstreaker is  _dead_ , Sideswipe," Ratchet said softly, forcibly keeping their gazes locked. "He's not here."

"But…I-I felt him," he tried to jerk back, denial in his pale optics. "He's so close…"

"No Sideswipe," the search and rescue hummer sighed. "He's gone."

For a long moment complete silence fell over the room, only broken by the sound of the storm raging outside. The other mechs crowded closer to each other, seeking comfort as they watched the mech struggle with himself. Slowly, the soft clatter of metal plates hitting together became audible. Tremors wracked the slender frame as his optics fritzed with lines of white static.

"No," Sideswipe shook his helm, the movement becoming more rapid with each turn. "No!" he yelled, writhing against the two captors. The rest of the crew shifted, watching for a cue from their leader to assist with holding onto him. _"No!"_

Optimus grunted as Sideswipe's struggling increased. He tightened his hold around him, pulling him flush against his larger frame. "Ratchet!"

The medic nodded and pulled a syringe from his subspace. He had taken to carrying a dose of sedatives with him in case something like this happened. The moment the silver bot saw it he renewed his battle to escape. "Easy Sideswipe," Ratchet cooed. "It's going to be okay. You just need to rest." He stepped closer, reaching out to hold the helm still. "Easy now…"

Sideswipe whimpered, giving pleading looks to anyone he could make optic contact with. Ratchet raised the syringe, lining it up with an energon line in his neck. At the last moment Sideswipe kicked out, slamming a foot against the medic's thigh and pushing him back. He used the momentum of the push to ram back against the Prime. He twisted, growling as he clawed at the restraining arms. With all of his wiggling, he managed to slip free from the grip. The moment his pedes touched the ground he was off, his wheeled feet taking him quickly from the room.

"After him! Don't let him get away!" Ratchet shouted, worry evident in his voice.

Mechs raced after the silver bot, splitting into groups to try and surround him. A pair stayed in the command center, using the terminals to track the fighter through the buildings. They called directions out over the comm. lines and curses drifted back to them as others caught sight of the runaway bot just in time for him to lose them again.

"Outside! He's outside, heading west!" one of the humans directed, watching a fuzzy security feed. "Looks like he's got his jet pack!"

"Hurry! We can't let him leave!" Optimus' urgent voice made everyone put on a burst of speed to try and catch up with Sideswipe. Autobots rushed from the buildings, converging on the spot the silver mech was racing towards. The storm buffeted them with rain and wind, limiting their vision and attempting to push them off course. The silver frame blended with the darkened environment, only lit by the flashes of lightning.

"There!" Ironhide bellowed after one such flash illuminated their target. "He's heading for the rock patch!" The rock patch was on top of a rise, and the height of the boulders had proved to be an excellent launching pad for mechs with the use of a jet pack. Sideswipe jumped, landing crouched on top of the large rocks. He glanced over his shoulder at the Cybertronians chasing him one last time and jumped again, igniting his jet pack at the peak of his leap and shooting higher up into the cloudy skies.

"Sideswipe!" Optimus shouted after the fleeing mech, but it was too late. The crash of waves and thunder drowned out his voice. Lightning struck, too close to comfort, and they hurried back inside. "All mechs to stations!" the Prime barked to his soldiers. "Get all of our systems up and running. Track him down." Mechs hastily complied, some running to wake the few still recharging in their quarters as they went after equipment.

Ratchet leaned against a wall, one hand covering his face and his optics shuttered. "Primus," he muttered.

"Ratchet?" Prime asked quietly.

"We can't go after him, not in this weather."

Optimus sighed. "I know, but we'll be ready for the moment it clears enough." He glanced over at Mirage when the spy called his name. "What is it?"

"The storm is causing too much interference. We can't track him."

"Primus," Optimus seemed to deflate. "Keep trying. We have to find him somehow." The Noble nodded and turned back to his monitor.

Ratchet onlined his optics. "I just hope there's something to find." The look in his gaze said what he didn't: Sideswipe was fading too fast now to last long enough for them to get there.

********

Trying to steer proved useless.

Sideswipe found himself flying through the air, swept away in the fierce winds. He struggled just to keep high enough to not crash into the waves below. Lightning danced among the boiling clouds above, causing him to duck and swoop lower than he would like. He had no idea just where he needed to go, but he went anyway, hoping he came to the next island in the chain before the storm got the better of him.

While the storm raged all around him on the outside, inside his spark was twisting and bursting, too full of conflicting emotions. Sunstreaker was here! But Sunstreaker was dead. Pain erupted in his spark, tearing him apart. He knew Mirage, Prime, and Ratchet wouldn't lie about his brother being gone, but the pulse he had felt was too real for him to not believe in it. He had to see if it was true. In the back of his CPU, he briefly wondered if it was just his twin calling him to join him in the Matrix.

Many harrowing breems later he was forced to land because of the intensity of the storm. He pulled himself through the shallow waters to the shore, ignoring the rain that lashed around him. Waves rushed up behind him, pushing and dragging at his frame. The sandy bottom sucked at his feet, making it a battle to just get onto more solid ground. He ducked down when lightning struck too close for his liking. Ratchet would tear him apart if he got his systems fried with this stunt.

He could feel little tendrils of warmth in his spark, something he hadn't felt for a long time. He followed their pull, upping the power of his optics, trying to get as much vision as he could for his search. When that, combined with the extra light from his headlights, did nothing to help, he switched his vision to infrared, looking for any significant heat source. Taking a big drag of air into his intakes, he started forward. Again, he faintly wondered if he was just going crazy and would finally fade away out here.

There wasn't much on the island that could be used for cover. It was one of the smaller islands in the chain. He could have made a single lap around it in less than two breems on a good day. But with the storm, it was taking entirely too long to look over the one spit of land.

He made his way painstakingly slow around the area. He tred as lightly as he could so his pedes wouldn't get stuck in the mushy sand. He flat out rejected any idea of trying to move faster with his wheeled feet. With his scans and infrared turning up nothing, he took to digging through any pile of sand that seemed large enough to be hidden under. The only result that yielded him was sand sticking in his joints.

The whole search took longer and more energy than he thought it would. He sank to his knees at the other end of the small island, giving up when he found nothing, not really wanting to consider checking the other nearby islands. He rubbed a hand over his empty spark, staring dejectedly out over the wild ocean. He had found no sign to explain the pull on his bond. Weariness tugged at his consciousness. They had been right.  
Sunstreaker really was gone.

He let himself fold completely to the ground with a sigh. His spark gave a faint pulse and he muttered at it to be still. Warnings had started popping up on his internal display, telling him of his need to refuel and recharge before his systems forced him into it. He brushed the warnings aside, thinking in the back of his processor that if he slipped into stasis now, maybe he wouldn't wake back up. He decided that was really a depressing thought if he let himself think about it too much.

He didn't watch his chronometer to see how long he laid there. The only way he could tell that time was passing was through the slow dissipating of the storm around him. His vision faded in and out, leaving him drifting in a state somewhere between wakefulness and recharge. He curled his frame into a loose ball, relaxing with the sound of hydraulics depressurizing as he rested.

He was nearly in recharge when an out of place sound drug him back into reality. Blinking his optics blearily, he looked around, searching for the source of the noise. Light from the moon was beginning to break through the clouds, aiding him in his new quest. A flash of blue sparks from behind a nearby pile of rocks drew his attention.

Cautiously, he rose back to his pedes, his swords extending in readiness. The scraping sound came again and he eased forward, keeping some distance between himself and the rocks. A grin formed on his face plates as a sudden idea struck him. He knew he wasn't in optimal conditions for a fight, so the best thing for him to try was a surprise attack.

Sideswipe ran towards the rocks, jumping up on top of them and crouching. He slammed the tip of one blade into the ground on the other side, just missing the heap of twisted metal as it jerked away. Pale and flickering blue optics met his and his cocky smirk faded. He let the air out of his intakes slowly, carefully retracting the blade that had come oh-so-close to running through an unprotected shoulder.

Never breaking optic contact, he dropped from his perch on the rocks to crouch over the other mech. The light protoform armor was torn and completely missing in some places. Sparks were cascading from damaged wires and circuits that were exposed to the elements around them. With a shaking servo he reached out and cupped a sand crusted cheek arch. The other's optics dimmed more at the touch, the helm tilting further into his hand. Sluggish systems gave a soft rev and a sigh was released. The silver mech smiled softly, his spark spinning rapidly in his chest. The warm tendrils were back, spreading through his frame and reaching out to the other spark so close to his.

Sideswipe moved and sat heavily on the ground, the strength gone out of his body. Slowly, the other moved, curling the damaged frame against his side. He idly stroked a hand over the battered helm, wrapping the bot into his embrace. His own optics flickered, his vision fading to black with the sound of the other's over taxed systems shutting down. His scanners registered it was safe to power down, that the last traces of the storm were leaving.

Unable to resist any longer, Sideswipe let go of his wavering reality and fell down into the welcoming darkness.

********

Skyfire launched as soon as the conditions were adequate for him to fly in. The search and rescue team he carried watched out of his windows as he flew low over the group of islands that surrounded Diego Garcia, hoping to catch a glint of silver metal in his search lights or a spark signature on their scanners. Just maybe they weren't too late…


	8. 31-Sunrise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt:**  31-Sunrise  
>  **Rating:**  PG/K+  
>  **Characters:**  Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Wheeljack, Ratchet, Various Others  
>  **Word Count:**  2,474  
>  **Disclaimer:**  Transformers is not mine.  
>  **Author's Note:** This takes place roughly a week after Sunset and Storm, so it's also movieverse.

The medbay was quiet and the exhausted medic sank down into his chair with a sigh. The datapad he had been reading clattered to the desktop from suddenly lax fingers. He dimmed his optics and let his helm fall back with a thunk. He knew he should get some rest, but he didn't want to leave his patients unattended just yet.

A knock drew his attention to the open door of his office. "Wheeljack," he greeted with a nod.

"When's the last time ya got some rest, Ratch?" the inventor asked as he took the seat across from the medic.

Ratchet shrugged. "Dunno."

"Uh-huh. So then my next question is when were ya planning on taking a break?" Wheeljack's fins flashed a deceptively calm shade of blue as he asked.

"When they onlined and I was confident they would be all right," Ratchet answered.

Wheeljack shook his helm. "It's been a week, Ratch. They'll wake up when they're good and ready. You know that. This separation was hard on us all, but I think it affected them more than we can understand. Just let them be. Go rest. Set your alarms and you'll know the moment one or both of them start to come to."

Ratchet was frowning. "If there are complications…"

"Oh stop. Have someone stay and watch them for a bit if you're that worried about them. At least just go and get some energon."

"I've got energon right here."

"Not good enough. Don't make me get Prime in here to order you out."

Ratchet snorted. "As if he could make me leave. He may be the Prime but my word is final in this medbay. He can't do anything here."

"Oh sure he can," Wheeljack let out a giggle. "He can throw you over his shoulder and carry you out. He is strong enough to do it. And if memory serves me right…"

"He only did that the one time! And it wasn't even related to anything with the medbay!"

The engineer waved a hand dismissively. "Doesn't matter. It still worked. The troops were quite in awe of him for the longest time after that..." he trailed off as the memories played through his processer. Ratchet took advantage of the momentary distraction and got a cube from his storage cabinet. His friend had refocused on him by the time he sat back down. "That's only low grade stuff. Not enough for your needs."

"It will be. Once the Twins are up and running again…"

"No," Wheeljack stood, moving around to stand next to the search and rescue hummer. "You need a proper refueling and a good, solid recharge. So put the cube away and come with me."

"Jack…" Ratchet protested the tug on his arm. "I just can't leave them. What if…"

Wheeljack pulled harder, making the chair scrape across the floor a ways. "All right, fine. Say there is a problem with them. What good are you going to be for them if you drop from exhaustion? A mech in a medical bay is only as strong as his medic. You're the expert on them. Skyfire and myself will only be able to do so much if you're out for the count. The better you take care of yourself, the better off they'll be."

Ratchet looked out into the medbay proper, watching the two unmoving frames sharing one of the larger berths. Finally he let out a sigh and nodded. "You're right Jack. I'll set my alarms and come quietly."

Wheeljack snorted. "You? Come quietly? This will shock everyone for a good while."

Ratchet glared at the other as he stood. He frame protested moving, proving that the Lancia was correct about his current state of health. "All right. I'll drink this cube and go get a couple hours of recharge."

The inventor was already shaking his head as he finished talking. "You're gonna put that cube away, come to the rec. room for some real fuel, and then pass out for as long as your body needs. If I see you awake and about again in any time less than a joor I'll sedate you until I'm satisfied you're rested enough."

Ratchet narrowed his optics. "You're threatening me?"

"No, just giving you a friendly warning."

The medic debated for a few astroseconds before nodding and letting the scientist guide him from the bay. "Here's a friendly warning for you then: don't blow yourself up because I just might not be in the mood to fix you."

"Fair enough. Now let's go. You've been watching them all day, all week. It's time for a break."

"Fine. I'll go, though I do so under protest. But first let me leave this for them. If they wake up they'll know to drink it."

"That works. I'll come back and check on them once I'm happy that you're taking care of yourself." Ratchet let out a yelp as the other grabbed him by the wrist and pulled. He could only follow as he was dragged out the door.

********

He let his systems cycle up to full power slowly. He felt warm all around, something he had missed feeling for a long while. He sighed, feeling the frame next to him press closer against his. He was content to just lie there, but his chronometer decided at that moment to turn on and cheerfully display the time. Instantly, an idea formed in his CPU and he nudged the helm nestled on his shoulder with his chin.

It took a few kliks, but gradually, the other's optics lit up. The finned head lifted, the gaze directed at him curious and still dimmed from the grip recharge had on him. He reluctantly pulled away from their shared warmth, gripping and tugging on the other's hands to get him moving. With a frown and tired sigh, the other began to scoot to the edge of the berth. He wobbled as he gained his feet, but the other was more than willing to help support him.

"And just where do you think you two are going?"

He winced and bit his bottom lip component as he turned to face the speaker. Wheeljack stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He put on his most winning smile. "Ah, Jack, it won't hurt nothin'. I just wanted to show…"

Wheeljack chuckled. "Easy, Sideswipe. Ratchet's lost in the land of recharge and I'm not gonna do anything. In fact, there was a little rain shower a couple hours ago, so the view should be pretty good. Go on." He motioned them forward, holding the door to the medbay open.

"Thanks, Jack," Sideswipe said, hoisting his twin's frame further up against his side. "I owe ya for this."

"Ya sure do. Know how you can pay me back?"

Sideswipe gave a short laugh. "Yep. I'll keep Skyfire on call for when Ratchet breaks you down for spare parts later and be your lab rat for an orn after Sky rebuilds you."

"It's a deal. Just let me scan ya both real quick so he has less to yell at me about later. Did you get that cube he left for ya?"

"Yep," Sideswipe nodded, squirming as the scan passed over him. "We'll split it once we get outside."

"All right. Scans are done. Now scat before Hatchet wakes up. He's been out since about midday yesterday."

"Thanks Jack." With the engineer's blessing, Sideswipe proceeded to lead his twin from the bay.

********

He stirred when he picked up the faint sound of beeping. Unhurriedly, the grip of the deep recharge he had been in faded. He felt blissfully relaxed and let out a groan as he stretched as far as he could and heard the satisfying  _pop_  of part popping back into place. It was with detachment that he realized the noise was coming from his comm. link, or more specifically, the alarm he had set on the systems of his patients.

Ratchet bolted out the door.

The medbay was silent when he reached it, which didn't overly alarm him. What was alarming was the emptiness. There was not a mech in sight. Not on the berths, not in the private rooms, not in his office, and not even in the storage closets. Panic decided to set in rather quickly.

The medic raced back out the door, opening a general comm. link to everyone on the base. Had anyone seen the Twins? No, not since they'd been hidden away in his domain. What about Wheeljack? Oh, he went off to catch some recharge a little bit ago. Then Optimus Prime's voice joined in, asking if anything was wrong. Ratchet snarled his answer back as he started searching through the rooms in the hall. Well, yes, the Twins are gone. Find them!

The search teams broke out, joining the medic's frantic hunt. His panic sank deeper and deeper as more areas were confirmed as twin-less. It was about three breems later when Bumblebee pinged his comm. line and music drifted over the connection.  _'All of my life, where have you been, I wonder if I'll ever see you again.'_

_'Where Bee? Where did you see them?'_  Ratchet answered.

_'Reach up for the sunrise, put your hands into the big sky, you can touch the sunrise, feel the new day enter your life.'_

_'Thanks, Bee,'_  Ratchet turned mid-step, changing his course for the nearest door. He made it outside quickly enough, already making a list of possible places the two mechs could have gone to. He caught sight of other search groups beginning to venture out of the buildings and hoped they would make short work of their task. He wanted to find the brothers before anything went wrong. Now he just had to find the best place to watch the sunrise from.

It was the glint of light off of polished metal from the partially risen sun that drew his attention to the rock formation Sideswipe had used as a launch platform only a week earlier. Ratchet hurried closer, his panic and worry changing rapidly into anger. He opened his mouth to deliver a rant to end all rants when he rounded the east side of the stones and stopped in his tracks. There was a blanket spread over the rocks and sand, protecting the frames that lay upon them from getting too scratched up. The empty energon cube sat on the edge of the cloth closest to him.

Sideswipe was leaning back on the rocks, his now red paint gleaming in the light. His legs were spread out before him, with the left one bent up in the air. His helm was tilted forwards and his optics were half shuttered. His arms were wrapped loosely around the other in his hold. Sunstreaker was lounging against his twin's chest, right arm draped behind the red one's neck and the left arm resting on the raised white thigh. The left yellow leg was bent up to a less degree, pressed together with the white and black leg. The right one was wrapped under and over Sideswipe's right leg. Black hands rested lightly on black hips from where they crossed over the glossy golden chest plate. The finned helm was tilted back, the same half awake expression on the face.

The optics of both warriors were focused on the horizon. The sun had risen higher into the sky, sending its tendrils of light further across the atmosphere. Clouds in shades of dark blues and purples dotted the air, breaking up the shafts of light into different hues of oranges, reds, and pinks. The sun itself burned a deep gold. The waves crashing gently into the shore sent glittering drops everywhere, looking like miniature shooting stars as they fell back to the ground.

Ratchet looked back to the twins and was startled to find Sideswipe watching him. He slowly approached and sat on his knees next to the younger bots. The red one nuzzled his twin's head as he watched the medic. Sunstreaker sighed and sank even more into Sideswipe's embrace.

"Ratchet?" Sideswipe asked, keeping his voice soft after a few long moments had passed.

"Yes Sideswipe?"

"Don't be mad at Jack."

This time it was Ratchet who sighed. "Why should I not be mad at him?"

Sunstreaker stirred long enough to answer. "Because he made sure we were okay before letting Sides drag me out here."

"I'll have to yell at him a little bit, but I won't do much to him."

Sunstreaker snorted and settled back down. Sideswipe gave a half smile, beginning to trace little patterns across the yellow armor, and quiet descended over the trio for a bit longer. "Ratchet?"

"Yes Sideswipe?"

"Don't be mad at me."

"And why not?"

"Because…I just wanted…I had to…" the frontliner gave a small whimper and hugged his twin tighter. "I just…"

"I understand," Ratchet answered, soothing a hand over the black helm. "I was just panicking. I couldn't be sure just how quickly you two might recover or if there would be complications. You were separated for a long time and thinking Sunstreaker had died only sent you in a downward spiral. Just to warn you both though, I don't plan on putting either of you back on active duty for at least another orn," Ratchet said.

"I think we can deal with that," Sideswipe agreed.

Again, quiet fell around them. The sun continued to rise and the sky began turning the faintest of blues. The medic shifted a bit, trying to get comfortable without disturbing the resting mechs.

"Ratchet?"

He gave a soft smile to the red bot as he answered with a sigh. "Yes Sideswipe?"

"Will you sit with us?"

"I thought I already was."

Sunstreaker huffed air out of his intakes. "He means there's plenty of room on the blanket for you to sit more comfortably."

"You're in a grouchy mood," Ratchet observed as he moved closer and sat, stretching his legs out in front of himself.

"You're interrupting our moment. Now sit down and watch the sunrise with us."

Ratchet grinned and finished getting settled. Sideswipe leaned a little closer to the medic, shifting Sunstreaker into a more comfortable position. Ratchet placed an arm around the red twin's shoulders, letting them pillow their helms against his side. Eventually, both frontliners drifted off into recharge and the older mech felt himself sinking into the warmth around him as well. He let his optics go offline, enjoying the simple closeness and the peace of knowing everything was as right as it could be in the universe with the two bots next to him finally reunited. Recharge pulled at him and he gave in, thinking with a fond smile that he would need his rest once these two were back up to strength. The pranks were bound to start very soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:**  The lyrics Bee uses are from Lenny Kravitz-Again and Duran Duran—Sunrise, and are not mine at all.


	9. 39-Taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt:**  39-Taste  
>  **Rating:**  PG/K+  
>  **Characters:**  Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Perceptor, Wheeljack  
>  **Word Count:**  3,060  
>  **Universe:**  G1, as if it was in our present time.  
>  **Warnings:**  None  
>  **Disclaimer:**  Transformers is not mine.

"No, no, no…" the mech muttered to himself as he watched the data scrolling on his terminal. "That is all wrong!" He let out a tired sigh as the final numbers flashed cheerily back at him. Then with a determined huff, he began entering the calculations into the computer  _again_. Maybe the fiftieth try would be successful. Primus knew the first forty-nine weren't.

Perceptor glared at the computer screen as his fingers flew over the keyboard, knowing that his figures were correct, but his frustration building with each failure. He shook his head as he glanced at the datapad next to him he had used for his initial idea and equations. Everything had worked out then, so it was beginning to frazzle his processor on why it wouldn't work now. It was such a simple thing to duplicate. The chemicals he was involving in this experiment were all compatible, and the formulas themselves were just so basic compared to others he had used in the past.

Finished entering the data, he clicked the start button and sat back to wait.

And wait…

And wait…

And wait.

"Oh Primus, this is ridiculous! Even the last attempt didn't take this long!" The normally patient scientist threw up his hands in exasperation. Growling softly, he checked his chronometer and sighed as the display happily told him time was pushing towards three a.m. "Perhaps that is enough for today," he mused. "A bit of energon, some recharge and maybe this experiment will work out in the morning." Satisfied with his plan, Perceptor pushed away from his work bench and made his way out of his lab.

The halls of the Ark were quiet this time of night. The small scientist took his time getting to the rec. room, enjoying the peace while it lasted. It was hard to tell just how long the lulls between battles would be. From his observations, all of the mechs on board took advantage of every still moment they would get their servos on.

The main recreation room was dark when he finally reached it. The doors slid open with a faint hiss that seemed overly loud in the silence. Flipping the lights on to their dimmest setting, the microscope navigated through the maze of empty tables to the energon dispenser on the far wall. Getting the ration he missed collecting earlier that day, he selected a random table and sat, letting his frame slump in the chair. He took a small sip of the glowing pink fuel and cringed at the taste.

The energon on the ship just hadn't tasted right to him for a while now. The first cube he drank had made his tanks roll, nearly making him purge half a joor later. He told Ratchet of his experience and the medic had set about testing a few cubes to make sure the energon wasn't going bad. When the results came back normal and no other mech complained of upset tanks, they had shrugged it off as just a freak occurrence. But the red and teal scientist began to grow suspicious when the next few cubes he had yielded close to the same results. Ratchet had given him a thorough medical check-up, but there were no signs that something was wrong.

So Perceptor was now stuck in his current situation. He was trying to create an additive to put in his energon to make it more agreeable to his systems. Only somewhere in his calculations, something was wrong. Or at least the computer simulation program thought there was. He pulled the datapad from his subspace to once again look over the information he just knew had to be right.

He was so deeply absorbed in his notes that he failed to notice the hissing of the doors as they opened. It wasn't until his chair was jostled that he realized he was no longer alone and the lights were considerably brighter.

"…knew you were a workacholic, but this is ridiculous," the mech on his right was saying. "Hey Percy! You still awake in there?" A closed fist gently rapped on the side of his helm.

Perceptor jerked his head back away from the offending taps. "I am most certainly awake. I was simply working on my current project. Why are the two of you awake at this time of night anyway?"

"Eh," Sideswipe shrugged. "Recharge is overrated."

Sunstreaker snorted from his position to Perceptor's left. "You? Claiming that? Those Seekers must have hit you over the head a little too hard that last battle."

The red Lamborghini shrugged again. "Maybe."

"Do you two mind?" Perceptor demanded as he scooted his chair further back.

"Not really, no. Why? Are we bothering you?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Yes, you are! Now if you'll excuse me…" the microscope reached for his cube to take another drink, but his hand hesitated just shy of touching it.

Sideswipe beat him to the glowing cube in that second. "You look like you really don't want to drink this," he said, holding it just out of reach with the smaller mech tried to grab it.

"Give that back!" He reached for it again, partly rising from his seat with a frown. "Don't make me wake up Prowl and Prime."

"Oh relax!" Sideswipe huffed as he placed the cube in the reaching hands. "I'm just teasing you."

Perceptor clutched the cube to his chestplate. "Well go tease someone else."

"We would, except for the ones we like to bother aren't awake at the moment," Sunstreaker replied. "And we've learned to let sleeping Ratchets lie."

"And how many lessons did that take?"

"Only three."

Perceptor snorted and pulled the cube of energon to his mouth and took a small sip before he thought about it too much. He couldn't suppress the shudder in time and the optics of both twins brightened as they watched his reaction.

"Something the matter, Percy?" Sideswipe asked, a concerned frown on his face.

"No, nothing," he replied, but it must have been too quickly as the brightly colored mechs shared a brief glance before turning more to face him.

"Right," Sunstreaker drawled. "Then take another drink."

"No, it's all right, really. I'm not in need of it that badly."

"Perceptor." Something in Sideswipe's tone of voice pulled all of his attention to the red mech. "We know something's been going on with you. Ratchet kept muttering about you the last time we stopped in to bother him. Now you can either tell us, or we'll find out in another way."

"This is none of your business!" Perceptor snapped, sitting up as straight as he could.

"But we're making it our business," Sunstreaker said, leaning closer. "So you might as well cooperate."

"Is that a threat?"

"So what if it is?"

"I'll report you to Prime!"

Sideswipe chuckled. "Go ahead. A week of punishment detail sounds fun. It's been too quiet around here lately anyways."

Perceptor glared at them. "Go away."

"Not until you tell us what's wrong. You haven't been refueling properly for a while now," Sideswipe stated. "We just want to know if there's anything we can do to help."

The smaller scientist looked at both of them and the cube he held for several long moments. Finally he let out a sigh. "There's really nothing you can do."

"Oh yeah? Try us," Sunstreaker urged.

"Very well. I suppose it can't really hurt anything," Perceptor paused long enough to gather his thoughts. "About an orn ago the energon just started to taste…off to me. It made my tanks churn every time I tried to drink it. I haven't been able to down a full cube since it started. My current project is to try and find some additive I can use to make the energon more…agreeable to my systems."

"So how's that working out for ya?" Sideswipe asked.

"Not very well, if I'm honest about it. My calculations are sound, but the simulations are going wrong somewhere."

"And you're getting past the point of frustration," Sunstreaker said.

Perceptor slumped, pushing the cube around on the table top distractedly. "Yes."

For a moment, the twin frontliners just gazed at each other. The microscope just stared down at the cube, his processor drifting over all of the wasted attempts he had made to get his formula to work that afternoon.

"What's it taste like?" Sideswipe asked, startling the other from his thoughts.

"Pardon?"

"He asked what does it taste like. Is it too sweet, sour, what?" Sunstreaker rephrased.

"Oh," Perceptor's optics brightened at the question. "Well, it tastes…umm…"

"Take a drink," Sideswipe pushed the cube closer. "Just enough to get a fresh idea."

Perceptor hesitated but finally gave in when the cube was nudged again. Already grimacing from what he knew to expect, he raised the energon and took a sip small enough to just get the briefest of tastes. He didn't have to fake the disgusted face he made immediately afterwards.

"Well?" Sunstreaker asked.

"It tastes…sour. Stale. The feel of the energy just hits all the wrong places."

"Lemme have a try," the red Lamborghini grabbed the cube and took a big gulp.

"Well?" Sunstreaker repeated, closely watching his brother's expression.

Sideswipe frowned as he contemplated the half empty cube in his hand. "Interesting. You try." He passed the energon across the table to the yellow warrior.

Sunstreaker took a more delicate sip, savoring the liquid energy before swallowing. He hummed quietly as he gazed at the remainder of the cube. "It seems fine…"

Sideswipe nodded. "Better get another cube just to be sure." He suited actions to words and quickly retrieved a second, full cube.

"So the energon tastes normal to you both?" Perceptor questioned.

"Yeah," Sideswipe answered. "I've got an idea though…"

"Do you trust us?" Sunstreaker interrupted.

Perceptor blinked his optics for a moment in confusion. "Well yes. I suppose I do."

"That's great then," Sideswipe said as he pulled a glittering, neon pink cube from his subspace. "We're going to try an experiment."

"What kind of experiment?" Perceptor asked cautiously.

"Just a simple taste test type thing. So first, you'll have to finish off that cube," the red prankster said.

"You want me to finish this cube? I don't think…" Perceptor frowned at the remaining liquid, his tanks already grumbling at the purposed idea of drinking more of it.

Sunstreaker let out an amused chuckle before he swiped the cube and drained it in one long drink. Sideswipe frowned at his twin, but let the action go without protest. He poured a little energon from the second regular cube into the empty one and held it out to the scientist.

"Yeah, you're still gonna have to drink this, despite Sunny's attempt to be helpful."

"Still?" Perceptor nearly whined.

"Yep. Just to keep the taste fresh."

"I can remember it just fine," Perceptor stated as his tanks churned. "I honestly don't need any reminders."  
Sunstreaker smirked. "Just get on with it."

"Right," Sideswipe poured a few drops from the sparkling cube into the partially empty one. He swirled the liquids around until he was satisfied and offered the mixed cube to the microscope. "Try this."

Perceptor gave him a doubtful look as he accepted the concoction. "Really, Sideswipe? You think just mixing it with high grade will help?"

"High grade fixes just about any problem," Sideswipe defended.

"For a while," Sunstreaker added.

"Not helping," the red twin hissed.

"Just stating a truth."

"Well stop it." Sideswipe glared. Sunstreaker shrugged and shot an amused glance to the scientist. Sideswipe shook his helm and refocused his attention to his current project. "Go on, try it."

"You did say you trusted us," Sunstreaker pointed out, trying to sooth Perceptor's nerves at least a little. Though how soothing he was would be left up to Perceptor.

With a little resigned sigh, Perceptor took a cautious drink. He was relatively surprised when a slight sweet taste ran over his glossa. But it was too quickly overrun by the same taste that had been giving him trouble. He nearly gagged at the sudden flavor.

Sideswipe nodded. "Not enough?"

"No, definitely not. But I have to ask, how will this be helpful? If I'm only going to mix it, wouldn't it be easier to just drink the high grade?"

"Good question. You could just drink straight high grade all the time from now on, but you're systems would be so buzzed your work would suffer. Not to mention Ratchet wouldn't be happy. At least by diluting it with regular grade, it won't be as potent. You should know that one, Percy," Sideswipe replied as Sunstreaker drained the remainder of the first mix to empty the cube for the next attempt.

"I did realize that. I'm merely trying to figure out why you're helping me."

Both twins looked at him strangely for a moment before shrugging. "If you don't want us to help…" Sunstreaker started to rise from his seat.

"I didn't say that!" Perceptor blurted, motioning for the both of them to say in their seats when Sideswipe moved to copy his yellow counterpart. "I just…"

"We confused you, didn't we?" Sideswipe wondered.

"Yes."

"That's okay then. Just get on with this," Sunstreaker sat back down.

Sideswipe nodded and mixed up a second sample for Perceptor to try. And so it went for a few breems, the three mechs settling into a pattern of trial and error. Sideswipe would mix the batches, Perceptor would taste and give his assessment, and Sunstreaker would finish off the excess. Oddly, Perceptor felt himself relax and enjoy the process. The more combinations they tried, the closer they got to a more tolerable mixture. Sideswipe didn't use precise measurements, and Perceptor found himself trying to create formulas by guessing the different amounts they tried. It was rather refreshing.

"All right. This is the last try or we're gonna have to go get another round of cubes," Sideswipe said, pouring the last few drops from each into the mixing cube.

"This might just be it though," Perceptor replied. "That last one was the best so far."

"Okay," Sideswipe quickly finished mixing the cube. "Give this a try then."

Perceptor eagerly took the latest sample and drank. The sensors in his mouth tingled as the liquid energy met them. The fizzy concoction was just perfect. While normal energon had been tank churningly revolting, this batch was sweet and hit all the right spots as he drained the cube. He smiled his approval to the twins.

"That was perfect!" he exclaimed.

"Good. Do you want us to mix up a couple cubes for you?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Well, if you wouldn't mind…just until I figure out what's going on with my systems…"

"No problem, Percy. We'll get them to you in the morning," Sideswipe said as he stood, gathering up all three empty cubes. Sunstreaker followed his brother's lead. They headed for the door.

"Thank you," Perceptor called to them. They just waved over their shoulders as they quietly left.

The microscope sat back in his seat, his tanks feeling full for the first time since this weird occurrence began. He briefly thought about trying to analyze the after taste of the energon he had just finished off, but was too sated to really do much of anything at the moment. Maybe after he spent the rest of the night in recharge he would remember to ask the frontliners more questions about their special brew of high grade the next time he saw them.

His plan set, Perceptor left the rec. room, making sure to turn the lights off as he left for his own quarters.

********

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe looked up with surprised expressions when Wheeljack sat down at their corner table in the rec. room an orn later. The older engineer stared at their half empty cubes of energon.

"Hey Jack," the red twin greeted when the unblinking stare began to get unnerving. "What's up?"

"How'd you do it?" the inventor demanded, finally focusing on the two warriors.

"Do what?" Sunstreaker asked warily.

"Help Perceptor. Or drive him even crazier than he's been lately."

"What are you talking about?" Sideswipe questioned.

"He was complaining about his tanks not accepting regular energon not too long ago. Now he keeps muttering about trying to figure out a formula and asking you two about the measurements you're using. What did you do?"

"Oh that," Sunstreaker shrugged and took a drink from his cube.

Sideswipe nodded. "We just made a special brew that agreed with his systems. We did a taste testing experiment until we found the right combination, so we don't exactly have any measurements."

Wheeljack's optics narrowed. "What kind of 'special brew?'"

Sideswipe grinned. "Not the kind you're thinking of. He thinks we mixed it with high grade but we didn't."

"It…it wasn't high grade?" the Lancia asked. "Then what was it you used?"

The twins shared a brief smirk. "This." The red one pulled out a small plastic bottle from his subspace.

Wheeljack picked up the item and gave it a close examination. "This is…seriously? This is a human beverage!"

"Yep," Sunstreaker leaned back in his chair, not looking too concerned about it.

"It works really good. Makes the energon all bubbly and fizzy," Sideswipe added.

"The acid in this stuff…do you have any idea what it could do to a mech's systems over time?" Wheeljack asked.

"Oh don't worry about that. Ratch approved it," Sideswipe replied.

"Wait. Ratchet allowed you to do this?" the engineer's helm fins flashed brightly in surprise.

"Yeah. He was talking to himself about it last time we were in there. We mentioned we had an idea and let him check it all over."

"So Ratchet let you use soda in the energon to get Perceptor to drink his ration?"

Sunstreaker nodded. "And it's just a plain soda called Sierra Mist. There's no extra stuff in it. Ratchet ran some tests on it and the mixture and said it would be fine. So then we got Percy to try it until we got the right combo and we've been mixing him a couple cubes every cycle ever since."

Wheeljack sat back in his chair. "Huh." He glanced around the room for an astrosecond. "Got any with you now?"

Sideswipe grinned, pulling a special cube from his subspace and dangling it enticingly in front of the other bot. "Wanna taste?"


	10. 81-How?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt:**  81-How?  
>  **Rating:**  PG/K+  
>  **Characters:**  Sideswipe, William Lennox, Robert Epps  
>  **Word Count:**  1,636  
>  **Universe:**  2011 Movie  
>  **Warnings:**  TF3 Spoilers, Mentions of Character Death  
>  **Disclaimer:**  Transformers is not mine.

Robert Epps let out a low whistle as he came to a stop beside William Lennox. The two men just stood silently for a while, ignoring the bustle of the base around them, each lost in their own thoughts as they gazed at the rust colored spot on the asphalt. Epps leaned back against a nearby crate of supplies and crossed his arms.

"He went down with only two hits from that guy?"

"Yeah," Will sighed and hopped up to sit on the crate next to his friend. "That spot is all that's left. I think Ratchet took a moment to pick up what he could but…"

"You saw what happened?"

"He just crumbled, Rob! He went down with the first shot and the second just turned him into a pile of dust! What kinda weapon can do that to them? To Ironhide?" Will burst out, disbelief on his face.

"Cosmic rust cannon."

"Pardon?" Epps asked, looking up at the sleek bot that had silently joined them.

"Sentinel's gun. It's a cosmic rust cannon. It only takes a single hit to down a mech, no matter how big he is," Sideswipe explained as he crouched to be more on the human's eye level.

"What's cosmic rust?" Will wondered.

"It's a microorganism that devours Cybertronian metals. It's usually a slow process so there's time to treat it, but with a certain type of radiation it speeds up a lot. Sentinel's cannon provided that radiation," the silver mech answered. "One of our science bots, Perceptor, created the only known cure for it."

"So there was a chance that Ironhide could have been saved?" Epps questioned before Will could get upset any more than he already was. He knew his friend had gotten pretty close with the Top Kick over the years they had worked with the Autobots. If there was a cure, Will was bound to get his hopes up at the thought of possibly restoring Ironhide. Or his hopes would go down even further at the thought that he could have been saved and just wasn't.

Sideswipe shrugged, settling down against a boxcar. "Maybe. As fast as it happened though, I doubt it. Ratchet probably had some of the corrostop somewhere in his supplies, but it was accelerated by the radiation and just spread too quickly. Especially since it was a shot directly to the spark chamber. There just wasn't time." He turned his gaze to the place where the mech had finally fallen.

"You seem to be taking this rather well," Lennox glared at the Stingray.

Slowly, the blue optics turned and focused on the much smaller human. "It's death. After several millennia of fighting it is nothing new to me," he replied, tone indifferent.

Epps gently smacked Will on the leg. They shared a glance and returned their focus on the bot. "How do you cope?" Epps asked. Maybe the bot would have an idea that could help Will get over the event.

Sideswipe gave a slow blink of his optics and sighed. "We don't. We just keep living, hoping to honor the fallen's sacrifice by continuing on to the next battle."

"So you don't do anything when someone dies? Like a ceremony or something?" Lennox asked.

"We used to, at the beginning. Then the death toll started to reach the hundreds and more and we just couldn't keep up. I know Prime keeps a list of the names of every mech and femme that dies, but we usually just can't spare the time to do anything," Sideswipe said.

Will nodded. "But how do you cope? You personally."

"Me?" Sideswipe shrugged. "Usually I'd go find Sunny and we'd do something."

"Sunny?" Epps repeated.

"Sunstreaker, my twin."

"What would you do?"

"We tried to keep our distance, but the smaller our units got the harder it was to do that. Usually we got totally smashed on high grade and forgot about everything for awhile. Though more often than not we were in the medbay for our injuries and were so out of it we didn't really process what had happened."

"So you just shrug it off and move on?" Epps asked.

Sideswipe frowned. "That's about all we could do. If we stopped to think about it too much we'd be overwhelmed and be useless in the next battle."

"We've seen you guys upset over the years at losing friends and have a general idea about what happens, but how will you deal with this? With Ironhide's death?" Will asked. "It just seems different with him, from what I've seen of the others."

For a long moment it seemed like the silver warrior wouldn't answer. He finally let out a sigh and shook his head. "I don't know. Ironhide's always been there. To know, to have proof that he's really gone for good this time…It hurts."

"How will of the others cope with this?" Epps questioned.

Sideswipe gave an empty, cruel looking smile. "It might be best to get all of you humans out of here for a few days."

"Why?"

"Mirage will simply disappear for a while. Bumblebee will be a miserable wreck. Ironhide practically raised him from a sparkling. The Wreckers will be loud and obnoxious. They'll probably want to set up something like your twenty-one gun salute to Jack and Hide. And because both of them were known for their ability to create explosions, they'll want to use the big guns. Ratchet will get plastered into stasis. He lost two of his closest friends this time and it hits him hard every time he loses a patient. Prime…he'll need some stress relief but won't say or do anything until he's sure everyone else is…stable enough to handle it. Even then he won't be able to let go and show us just how upset he is. Just like with Bee, Ironhide played a large part in Optimus' life as well."

"What will you do?" Will asked.

Sideswipe looked up at the sky, then turned his gaze to the place the older fighter had finally lost a battle. "Me? I've been of two processors about how I'll deal with it. I'll either join Ratchet or goad Optimus until he beats me into a pile of scrap, which would lead me to join Ratchet anyway."

Epps raised an eyebrow. "How would letting Prime beat you up help anything?"

"If I push him hard enough, he'll break down. While it's detrimental to my health, the release of his emotions and energy will help him get over it. He'll be miserable about hurting me, but he knows I'm only helping him in the long run. He'll make it up to me later. It's just one of the ways we've found to help him cope that actually works. Not everyone can make him lose his cool, but there's a couple of us who know what buttons to push and can withstand the beating that follows."

The three were quiet for a while, not knowing what else could be said on the topic. Finally Will broke the silence. "How will you tell other arrivals?"

Sideswipe let out another long sigh of air through his intakes. "How we tell them depends on who they are. Some bots need to be told flat out, others we need to be a bit more…gentle when it comes to news like this. But because this is Ironhide, no one knows how to tell anyone yet."

"Who was Ironhide to you?" Will inquired.

Sideswipe gave him a lopsided, sad little grin. "That's a question for another time, perhaps. None of us will be ready to talk about who he was until we learn how to deal without him."

The two humans looked at each other for a minute. Epps gave a nod and both turned back to the silver bot. Will hopped down from his perch on top of the crate. "You guys would do better if the base was empty for a while?"

Sideswipe gave a slow nod. "That might be the best option."

Will gave him a sharper nod. "We'll talk to the higher ups, clear it with Prime…"

"No, don't tell him. He'll insist it isn't necessary and bring up a thousand and one reasons why you should stay. No one else will bring it up either because he won't. Best to just keep this to ourselves."

"We'll get started on it," Epps said, pushing away from the crate and beginning to walk away with Lennox in tow.

Will stopped and turned back to the mech who had returned his optics to the spot on the ground. He gave him a hard, calculating look, then softened his gaze. "This is how you cope, isn't it? You take care of everyone else." Rob paused to hear the reply.

Sideswipe glanced over at the smaller beings. He gave a faint smile as he answered. "Sometimes, seeing others move on is the best way. If they can continue to live with the knowledge of death, so can I. It doesn't really matter how we cope, does it? What matters is how we remember those who have fallen."

Lennox sighed. "We'll let you know how things go in a day or two. We'll try to get you guys a few days to be alone."

"It will be much appreciated, Colonel Lennox," Sideswipe gave a sort of half bow from his sitting position. Will and Rob returned the gesture with a salute of their own, then turned to leave and get their plans into motion.

_Maybe he's right,_  Will reflected as he walked away, thinking of his own pain at losing Ironhide after all these years.  _It doesn't matter how they deal with it, as long as they can. What matters is how they remember. It may be a physical death, but they'll still live on in our memories._


	11. 96-Writer's Choice-Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt:**  96-Writer's Choice-Secrets  
>  **Verse:**  G1  
>  **Characters:**  Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Ratchet, Jazz, Various Others  
>  **Rating:**  K+  
>  **Warnings:**  None  
>  **Disclaimer:**  Transformers is not mine.  
>  **Word Count:**  2,933  
>  **Author's Notes:**  I wrote this for an October Challenge for the twins_x_ratch community on LJ and the prompt was The Artist. This little story is kinda going on the idea that not many know much about the Twins, not even Jazz.

Everybody had secrets, no matter who they were or where they came from, and he was the master of secrets. No one could hide anything from him for long. He had many ways of finding out what they didn't want him to know, and the Autobots relied on him to get that information. He rarely failed at his job.

And that was the current reason for his bad mood. He was failing, and quite epically at that. He just couldn't figure it out. It was his job to know this stuff, his job to know what to do. But nothing seemed to be working.

The last few weeks had been tough on them all. The Decepticons had been relentless. The days were marked by the number of battles and encounters instead of dates. Many times, the Autobots had been pushed to the very edge and were only saved from falling over when somebot pulled off a lucky shot to change the tide. It was a rough time and getting rougher. Injuries left more than half the crew down, and it seemed most mechs had set up permanent residence in the medical bay for the time being, much to their CMO's displeasure. Extra duties were being spread around to others who were struggling just to get their own stuff done.

It was attrition. He didn't know how long the Decepticons could keep the pace up, but he knew the Autobots were on the verge of caving from exhaustion and stress. He could just watch his fellow bots as they interacted in the halls, on duty, in the rec. room. They were quiet, subdued. No one had the energy for anything. It was eerie to stand in the doorway and observe as the mechs sat around tables, not talking, just forcing their energon down and leaving to go about their duties.

"What's the secret guys?" he asked softly. Talking to himself helped him see the answers he needed better sometimes. "What do Ah gotta do ta cheer this place up?"

There was a snort as the larger red mech dropped strutlessly into the seat next to his. "I don't think you're gonna find a way this time, Jazz."

"Oh yeah? Why not?" the Porsche asked. "Ah gotta do somethin', Sides. These bots can't take much more."

Sideswipe shrugged, taking a drink from his energon cube. "Do whatever you want, mech. It just ain't gonna work unless they want it to."

"If Ah figure out the secret, it will."

"What secret? Jazz, they're tired. Worn out. Whatever you want to call it. Being loud or throwing a big party isn't going to get their attention. They don't want that," the red Lamborghini replied, glancing up as his twin entered the room, went straight to the dispenser for two cubes and came back to sit at their table.

"So what do they want?" Jazz questioned, arms crossing over his bumper. "Since ya seem to have become an expert on 'em."

This time Sunstreaker let out a snort. "They want rest, peace, to go home. They want a life without war, to return to life before the war. These last weeks have hit us harder than any other, but only because we've gotten tired of constantly fighting for something we can't see anymore."

"Got any ideas on how to cheer 'em up then?"

Sideswipe shook his helm. "Nah. We've got our servos full with taking care of one mech. You'll have deal with them."

"How is Ratchet?"

Sunstreaker shrugged and stood, picking up his cubes. "He's stressed. Not refueling, not recharging. Just chased Prime out of the medbay when he suggested he get some rest."

Sideswipe followed his twin's lead. "These few weeks have been hardest on him, I think. We're working on him though."

"Questions is: are ya making any progress?" Jazz smirked. The Twins had been working on getting Ratchet's attentions for a few months now. He approved of the slow, subtle ways they were employing to win the medic over. They were taking care not to scare the other bot off.

"It's attrition, Jazz. We'll wear him down sooner or later. He'll know when he knows," Sideswipe answered.

"Ah never thought you two would be good at somethin' like this," Jazz said.

"There's a lot you don't know about us," Sunstreaker stated as he walked away.

"Care to share then?"

"Sure." Sideswipe nodded and leaned down to whisper. "It's a secret. Who we were, what we did. You'll never know. Besides, you've got bigger secrets to figure out." With that, the red twin followed the yellow one and the doors swished shut behind them.

Jazz frowned. Secrets, secrets, secrets. He needed to get to work.

********

It was really subtle, how it started. Others began to notice it before he did. It was just little things here and there, popping up in unexpected places all over the  _Ark_. They were just random little doodles, but they caught the optic and made mechs pause and look at them. The first ones didn't cause any stir. No bot even grinned at the silly little pictures.

Jazz figured it was because the Decepticons were still at it. The battles were still hard and the outcomes were getting difficult to call. Prowl was at his wit's end. He'd suffered more crashes lately than he'd had in all the vorns Jazz had known him. So it was because of a crash that the second-in-command was now in the medbay and Jazz was on his way to pay him a visit.

The large room was quiet. For once, only a select few were lucky enough to merit an extended stay. Ratchet was standing next to Prowl's berth, fiddling with a monitor. Jazz caught a glimpse of Sunstreaker towards the back of the room, rubbing a cloth down his arms. Not here to see the golden warrior, he made his way over to the medic.

"Heya Ratch. How's he doin'?"

Ratchet let out a grunt as he turned to the other mech. "He'll be fine by the end of the cycle. I want to keep him here over night though, just to make sure he gets the rest and fuel he needs," he answered.

Jazz gave the medic a quick once-over. "What about ya, doc? Ya gettin' what ya need too? You seem ta be doing better than ya were."

The white and red mech sneaked a look over his shoulder at the still busy Sunstreaker and lowered his voice. "Oh, I'm being cared for, no worries there. It's sweet really. They've been dutiful to my every need, no matter what it's been." He sighed and leaned a hip against the berth edge. "I've been watching them since the moment they joined this crew. I can't really express just how it feels to finally know for sure they're interested. I've always wondered, always had this hope…"

Jazz let a slow grin spread over his faceplates. "Doc! Ya've already made up yer CPU on them, haven't ya? Are ya gonna tell 'em?"

Ratchet's answering grin was just a little bit wicked. "Nah. Let them work at it for a while longer. I have to be sure they're really willing to deal with every part of me."

"Sneaky, Ratch, sneaky. Hey, speakin' o' sneaky, ya got any idea about who's doin' the drawings?"

The ambulance shook his helm, turning back to check on Prowl. "No, not a clue."

"Dang. Thanks, mech," Jazz frowned and turned to leave, his processor already going through his list of possible artists.

********

The little doodles and sketches were a distraction, but not much of one. As the cycles went on, the moods just fell further and further down. Even the Prime was starting to show signs of distress and just a weariness in general that only served to send a darker cloud over the _Ark_. Jazz felt himself giving in to it all. He had tried many things: jokes, overreacting to the simplest of things in comedic ways, or just having a smile on his face. But no one was in the mood to feel like he did.

That's why it was such a surprise when a general comm. frequency was opened and Bumblebee's laughter reached them. Everyone was startled at the sound, most jumping in their seats and cursing over their spilled energon. Concerned, Jazz pinged the minibot for his location and went to check on him.

_'Where are ya, Bee?'_

_'Oh Jazz! You have to see this! I'm just outside the training bay.'_  The yellow VW dissolved into giggles once again.

By the time Jazz found the little spy, a small crowd of bemused bots had gathered a rather safe distance from him. The Porsche knelt down next to where Bumblebee lay on the floor, still laughing rather uncontrollably.

"Heya Bee. What's so funny?"

Between gasps of air through his intakes, Bumblebee managed to point at the opposite wall. Following the Beetle's wordless direction, Jazz and the others turned to look at what had caused the minibot's giggle attack. Promptly upon finding the source, a few of the others began to laugh as well. The rest were smiling and calling others on the comms. to come and see.

What they were going to see was a painting that took up every inch of space on the doors to the training bay. Optimus Prime seemed to be swooping down from the clouds, breathing a stream of fire, and with wings, sharp teeth, outstretched claws, and a long tail. Running away from him was Megatron and his main Seeker trine. All depicted as pastel pink bunnies, complete with fluffy tails, ears, and frightened faceplates.

And so it went for a while. Random scenes as large as the first began appearing. Mechs started smiling, talking and joking about what others thought the next painting would be about. The battles eased somewhat and the general mood lightened. It was hard to look at the Decepticons with bringing to mind the pictures of them. Whether they just wanted to stay away from the insane Autobots or something else came up, more time came between fights and things on the  _Ark_  seemed to return to a semi-normal state.

********

The moods that had been rising took a slight fall by the end of the orn. Mechs began grumbling and complaining as soon as the news reached them. The main rec. room was closed for repairs until further notice. A particularly grueling battle left spirits even lower and their upward spiral of recovery came crashing down.

Tempers flared up and a pall of misery settled over the crew. Jazz did what he could, trying to bring up the wall paintings whenever he had the chance, hoping to inspire the troops to a more lively state. Getting worried and feeling his own spark sinking lower, he sought out Grapple and Hoist to question them about the timeframe for the repairs.

They knew nothing about any type of repairs for the room. Curious, he tried to get into the rec. room, only to be met with locking codes he'd never seen before. Warming up to the challenge, he set about cracking them. Only to be outdone the moment he started. The codes shifted, evolving every time he tried to get through them. Someone was hiding some very useful skills from him.  
He had more secrets to work on it seemed.

********

It was an orn before the announcement came that the main rec. room was open again. Happy and curious, mechs flocked to the room, completely ready to get back into a routine. Jazz smiled as relief flooded the bots, bringing back a bit of life to the atmosphere. He let out a sigh as he entered the room. Maybe things would stay better now.

A sense of wrongness washed over him after only a few steps and he stopped, his visor sweeping over the silent mechs. They were all moving slowly, carefully taking seats at tables. All optics were focused around the room. None seemed to be paying attention to where they were going or what they were doing.

And after the sight registered with him, Jazz couldn't blame them. The artist had struck again and this time the affect was spectacular. Gone were the drab orange walls. Gone was the dull, time warn look. It was all changed. Paint, in so many colors it left the CPU spinning, was everywhere. It took some time for the optics to adjust and for the pictures to resolve.

The far corner where Smokescreen liked to hold his betting pools and card games was now painted to look like a Cybertronian casino, complete with shadowy outlines of the mechs who usually sat in the area. That scene blended to the left and joined a bar-like tableau that covered the row of energon dispensers. To the right of the gambling corner, the scene changed to the city of Praxus and the crystal gardens that had made it famous.

The next corner was known as the officers' corner. It was close to the doors and gave them an easy way out should there be an emergency. Now, the sweeping towers of Iacon held sway, shining in the light of Cybertron's lost sun. From there, the scene changed to Earth. Jazz thought it was appropriate that the doors were covered with a scene from the desert they now called home. It would be like leaving one world and going into another.

In the corner directly opposite of the officers', and to the left of the bar scene, stood the darkened area of Kaon. Neon colors stood out against the deeper shades of the buildings here. The dark colors faded to an even darker tone, the scene in the middle, across from Praxus, changing to a mural of space. In the center was a perfect blend of planets. A jagged line down the center divided the circle, half of the shape respectively showing Cyberton and Earth.

The last corner had the largest area. It extended into the center of the room. The floor was painted in bright, neon shades, matching the mix of colors that had captured Tyger Pax in all the city's night life glory. In this corner, all the sound systems had been put up, setting out the place for parties, complete with matching dance area.

Even the lighting in the room matched the scenes, with the lights for the dance floor being different shades that could pulse with the music. The lights of Iacon were bright and sparkling, blending into Praxus and the desert. Dimmer settings had been used in Kaon and the remaining scenes.

Not even the ceiling and floor had escaped attention. Scattered above their heads were planets and stars, all familiar. Constellations of Earth and Cybertron, neighboring planets of both systems. It was all there, merged together seamlessly. The floor looked sandy by the doors and turned into the metal ground they used to walk upon the further away one moved. That metal look and texture surrounded the brighter tiles of the dance floor.

It was a lot to take in, Jazz decided as he sank into a chair in Tyger Pax. Laughter was beginning to resound throughout the room. Mechs were smiling, sitting up straighter in their seats. Their optics were lighting up with a brightness that had been absent for longer than anyone would care to admit. Bots that had become reclusive with the oppressed mood were rushing back to their friends, joining in what was quickly becoming a festive mood. Blaster was already at the sound system, checking out the new equipment that had been added to the collection.

"Just like home, huh?" Sideswipe asked as he stopped next to Jazz.

"Who did this?" The saboteur asked in reply. He was still trying to take it all in.

The red mech shrugged. "The artist."

"Well yeah, but who is the artist? No bot here has that kinda talent. Ah would've known."

Sideswipe hummed, his smile showing that Jazz didn't know as much as he thought he did. "Maybe it's a secret."

Jazz looked up sharply, the light reflecting off his visor. "Ya've got a lot of secrets."

The Lamborghini turned to leave with a laugh. "Aren't secrets so much fun?" With that he slipped through the crowd towards the doors to join his brother and Ratchet.

Jazz narrowed his optics as he watched them. The medic was rubbing a damp cloth over the yellow frontliner's faceplates. Sideswipe must have said something when he reached them as Sunstreaker turned to see Jazz, his own smile curling over his lipplates. A streak of neon blue paint was smudged on his cheek, and was only there long enough for the white medic to wipe it off. Jazz saw other patches of color on the warrior's frame and it was like the pieces of a puzzle just fell into place.

A comm. line opened to him.  _'Really Jazz. It's not like we have secrets. It's more like no one ever bothered to ask.'_  Sunstreaker turned back to Ratchet and closed the line. The trio slipped out the doors as more bots came in.

_So maybe it wasn't that mechs carried a lot of secrets,_  Jazz mused as he watched Prowl and Bluestreak pointing out features in the crystal gardens.  _Maybe it was because no one asked the right questions._  Well, in any case, he wasn't going to worry about it now. He knew who the artist was and Blaster was calling him over to help with music. It was time to liven this place up again.


	12. 28-Children

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt:**  28-Children  
>  **Rating:**  PG/K+  
>  **Characters:** Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Ratchet, Various  
>  **Word Count:**  10,000  
>  **Universe:**  G1-ish  
>  **Warnings:**  None  
>  **Disclaimer:**  Transformers is not mine. The femme Rosette is.  
>  **Author's Note:** This was originally written for a challenge on the twins_x_ratch community on LJ. The prompt was sparklings.

"Perimeter secured, sir," Prowl reported.

Optimus Prime nodded. "Very good. All right mechs, get some recharge while you can. We've got a long push back to Iacon. We move out in a joor."

The Autobots of the small unit spread out, searching for the most comfortable spot in the old warehouse they could find. The sentries outside had already settled in, watchful for any signs of trouble. Ratchet moved through the other mechs, making what repairs he could or were needed. Ironhide was inspecting his cannons, still on full alert. He would be until they were safely back within the walls of the base. Jazz pulled Mirage and Hound to the side to discuss the outcome of their last mission. Optimus settled down against a stack of old crates, his hydraulics hissing in relief.

Only a few moments later, Ironhide and Jazz joined him. The weapons specialist frowned. "So it's war?"

Prime nodded. "We were lucky to get out of there as unscathed as we are. I believe we have enough information on Megatron and his plans to finally address it. There will be war. I cannot as yet tell the scale, but it will happen."

Jazz crossed his arms. "Ah could get a team together. End it quick."

This time Optimus shook his head. "An assassination would only pave the way for some other mech to take his place. At least with Megatron we have a general idea of what we're dealing with."

Ironhide snorted air through his intakes. "This isn't gonna end well no matter what we do."

"No, my friend, it won't. Best get your rest while you can. Hard times are coming. Harder than what many are used to," Optimus agreed. Taking heed to his advice, the two mechs moved off.

The medic knelt next to him after a couple more breems. He set a cube of energon next to his commander as his optics took in the larger bot's appearance. "Your energy levels are low. All other damage I see is superficial. Any complaints about anything?"

Prime gave a light chuckle. "Only about our current situation, my friend."

Ratchet snorted. "Everyone complains about that," he reached for the cube, optics double checking the frame before him. "Anything that relates to my function?" The medic frowned and looked down for the cube. "What the…?"

"What is it, Ratchet?"

"All right. Which of you slaggers took it?"

"Took what, Ratch?" Jazz asked.

"The energon cube for Prime!" The Chief Medical Officer snapped back.

"Hey, hey! No need to bite our heads off. You sure you had one?" Smokescreen asked.

"Yes! I'm positive!"

"Mine's gone too!" Wheeljack exclaimed.

All the mechs were on alert when a clang sounded from the far end of the building. Jazz raised a hand and made a circular gesture. Hound eased his way over to the far wall that was closest to the Prime. Mirage vanished and Jazz mirrored Hound's movements.

"Set a cube by those crates and back away," Jazz ordered. "Go back to normal mechs."

The green scout did as told and the others began a light conversation, watching the spot from the corner of their optics. Nothing happened for several breems and many shrugged it off and relaxed their guard. There was a soft clicking sound and Hound signaled to Jazz. The two mechs crouched and readied their weapons. The silver ops commander gave another hand gesture that the others guessed was for Mirage when neither of the two visible mechs moved.

It was close to another breem later when movement drew their attention to the space between two crates. Slowly, a small bundle of dirty metal and wires crept forward, pale blue optics focused on the liquid energy. The little bot reached for the cube and sparks crackled from the right shoulder as it was lifted. The small bot teetered dangerously as it straightened and turned too quickly to go back into its hiding place.

Jazz lunged, catching the small creature with both hands. It instantly began to shriek and struggle, dropping the cube. "Got something for ya, doc," the spy turned, fighting to keep a hold of the tiny bot.

A second little bundle launched at him from higher up with an enraged snarl. It latched onto his hand, hissing, biting, and tearing like a feral cybercat. The other continued to whine and squirm, despite its obvious injuries. "Ow! Ow!" Jazz swung his wrist, trying to dislodge his mini-attacker.

"Stop! Stop!" Ratchet called. "Those are sparklings!"

The rest of the Autobots were on their feet. Ratchet plucked the second sparkling off of Jazz's arm. Sharp, angry clicks and whistles left the little bot as it continued to fight. The medic began running scans on both of them, cursing as the results came in.

"There's damage to that one's protoform and their energy levels are near critical," he announced. "Jack, get that one and help it with the energon. Gently."

Wheeljack picked up the cube and gingerly took the sparkling from Jazz. The little mech struggled at first, but quickly settled in the inventor's arms and latched onto the cube as soon as it was presented. The one Ratchet held instantly became docile, though a few chirps and twitters were still emitted. The engineer ran a few scans of his own.

"Oh, Primus, Ratch…"

The medic nodded, having come to the same conclusion. "They're twins. Split spark twins." His patient made grabbing motions and leaned towards the other one. Ratchet pulled another cube form his subspace as Prime approached. "Here," he shoved the bot into the titanic mech's arms. Both just looked at each other in surprise.

Mirage chuckled as he shimmered into view. He adjusted the sparkling in his leader's arms and demonstrated how to hold the cube. The little bot began to guzzle down the fuel. Soon both were finished and gazing at the bigger mechs warily. Ratchet started fussing with the injured one, trying to find the extent of the damage.

The medic received a whimper when he poked a sensitive spot. With that noise, Prime found himself with an armful of distressed sparkling. After struggling for a moment to contain the mechlet, and ignoring the amused looks of his comrades, Optimus let a sigh out of his intakes.

"Perhaps treating them should wait until we have returned to base?" he suggested.

Ratchet gave a snort at the scene of the Prime trying to hold on to the wiggling sparkling. "Perhaps. They will need more work than I have the resources for at the moment anyways." He took a step back and the soft whines slowly tapered off.

The one in Prime's arms made grabbing motions, optics focused on the drowsy twin in Wheeljack's arms. Grinning behind his mask, the inventor approached and deposited his charge in his commander's arms. Both twins instantly cuddled together, snuggling deep against the Prime's chest plates, over his spark. Optimus looked unsure about the new development. Ironhide took pity on him and adjusted his hold to be more comfortable for all involved.

Prowl gave his commander a small smile. "Return to your places, mechs. And stay quiet. We don't want grouchy sparklings on our hands."

"Will someone…" Optimus began.

"Nope. They're rechargin' boss bot. Ah don't want ta be the one ta wake 'em up," Jazz interrupted. "Ya might as well get comfy."

"I'm the Prime, not some sparkling sitter!" There was a definite whine in the usually inspiring voice.

"What is it you say? We must all make sacrifices or some such?" Ratchet was grinning from audio to audio. "It's for the greater good if they stay in recharge."

"But…"

"Think of it this way, sir," Prowl interjected, confident his cool logic would win the debate. "In the case of an attack, you are the best option for their protection."

Optimus shuttered his optics briefly with a sigh and settled down in his previous spot. "No bot says a  _word_  about this, understood?" He added a glare to his words, just in case.

A chorus of giggled 'yes sirs' answered him.

********

"Never again," Prime muttered as he transformed. Jazz was grinning as he held the curious sparklings. "I am never doing that again."

"Aw, come on Prime. The drive wasn't that bad!" Ironhide was grinning too. "I rather enjoyed it."

"Oh yes, you did. But you didn't have two little hellions bouncing around in your seats to deal with."

Ratchet swiped said hellions from the saboteur's grip. "It wasn't that bad and you know it. Now if you'll excuse us, Jack and I need to get them patched up."

"What will we do with them after they are repaired?" Prowl asked as the group broke up, the officers heading towards the command center. "They can't stay here. This is a military base now. It's not a place for sparklings."

"The Youth Centers are an option. It's either that or we give 'em to the Neutrals," Ironhide said.

Optimus scrubbed a palm over his faceplates. "I suggest we just wait and see. Ratchet will need to clear their health before we do anything. Remember, this war will not end quickly. Keeping them, raising them here, might be our only choice."

"Risky," Jazz replied. "But the advantaged of having split spark twins…"

"As Prime said, let us wait and see before we make our decision. I, personally, do not want to raise them only to send them to death in battle," Prowl stated.

"Ratchet will not release them for some time. We will discuss this at a later orn," Optimus said. "For now, we must focus on the situation at hand. I'll expect post mission reports by the next cycle. Get some energon and recharge."

Dismissed, the three mechs bowed to the Prime and went their separate ways as he entered the command center.

********

~One Cycle Later~

"Ratchet?"

"Optimus," the medic greeted as he stepped out of his office.

The red and blue mech glanced around at the empty medbay. "Where are the little ones?"

"Recharging. Their health is not near any level it should be. Further scans and examinations found that they should have been given a youngling frame a vorn ago. They have been deteriorating for quite some time because of that lack of medical attention and care. Wheeljack has already begun designing larger frames," Ratchet answered. "It will be sometime before they are fully recovered and up to my satisfaction."

Optimus grinned. "That shouldn't take you too long to fix then."

"No," Ratchet agreed, a half grin on his lips in answer. "But taking care of them in general will take more than myself and Jack can manage."

"How many will you need?"

"Only a few. I'll mostly keep it to my medical staff, but I'll rely on some of the older mechs to lend a servo from time to time. I know Ironhide has the experience to help," the medic replied.

"Do what you need to then," Optimus turned to leave. "But Ratchet? Don't get too attached. We don't know what's going to happen next."

A weary look crossed over the white mech's face. "I understand sir."

********

~Five Orns Later~

The surprise attack had definitely been just that: a surprise. They had gotten lucky when Blaster managed to pick out the Decepticon signals approaching the outpost several kliks outside the city limits. At first, the parade of injured mechs and femmes had been a slow trickle. It only took a few breems before the entrance became a flood. The medical staff was completely overwhelmed. Shouts of bots calling for aid fought yelled orders from the medics, echoing off the walls and creating an atmosphere of confusion and pain.

Several times, a wrench made contact with different helms. Above the din, Ratchet could be heard ordering his underlings to their jobs or walking them through procedures they weren't familiar with. His more experienced aids needed little help from him and tried to work with the others so the chief medic could focus on the more serious cases.

It was in the early joors of the next orn that Ratchet felt comfortable leaving the medbay. He was exhausted. Losing three mechs under his care had left him wearier than he remembered ever being before. The feeling of their sparks fading, dying, in his servos still haunted him. With a heavy hand, he punched in the code of his quarters and leaned against the door frame, watching the bots gathered inside.

Arcee, his current twin-sitter, glanced up at the sound of the door but quickly returned her attention to tickling the sparklings. Their high pitched squeals and giggles brought a tired smile to the medic's faceplates. Drawn in by the sound of happiness, he dropped to the floor next to the playing trio. Instantly, the little twins escaped the femme's attack and latched onto the medic. He carefully gathered them into his lap, listening fondly to their chatter of chirps and tweets.

The pink femme leaned back against the couch she sat in front of. "They are adorable."

Ratchet couldn't help but agree. "They are. Jack should have their new frames finished soon. With that upgrade they'll be back to a state of good health."

She grinned. "So what have you named them?"

"Me?"

"Well, you're the primary care giver. You know they're going to be staying here," Arcee shrugged.

The older mech's rising mood fell again. "Optimus suggested I not become too attached to them. He said we couldn't be sure about what might happen. The general thought was to find a better place for them."

Arcee frowned and crossed her arms. "Really? You're going to let Prime tell you what might be best for them?"

Ratchet looked from her to the sparklings. "I'm honestly too tired to have a conversation like this," he muttered, optics dimming.

She nodded and rose, heading for the door. "Just think about it, Ratch. They'll do you a world of good."

The white and red mech watched after her for several moments before his attention was taken back to the squirming youngsters. With a groan he rose to his pedes and flopped onto his berth amidst the laughter of the twins. They gazed up at him, optics bright with trust. With his sensitive hands supporting their backs, he could feel the strong pulses of their sparks through their plating.

One of them chirped softly when the frame they rested on began to shake. In tandem, they slid forward and off, both cuddling against his side. The other one started to purr as he nuzzled into the shoulder of the bigger mech. Ratchet shifted carefully, turning onto his side and pulling a thermal blanket up around them as they snuggled up further, their helms nestling under his chin.

He briefly closed his optics, hearing the hiss of his tired hydraulics as the tension his frame had built up finally began to dissipate. The two smaller frames were generating a warmth that was seeping all the way down to his spark. He gazed down at them, a faint smile curling over his lips. Just the soft sounds of their idling engines alone was drowning out the echoes the last cycle had left ringing in his audios.

He sighed, holding them tighter as he slipped into recharge. They snuggled closer, already in their own recharge. "Such dear sparks you are…"

********

~One Orn Later~

Optimus nodded as the last members of his command staff took their seats. "There is one issue we must discuss before any other. The Twins. How are they, Ratchet?"

"Striker and Spin Out are doing well. All damage has been repaired and with a steady source of energon, their development as improved greatly. Wheeljack created new frames for them and that has been a large factor for their advancement."

"Striker and Spin Out?" Optimus frowned.

Ratchet shrugged. "Had to call them something."

Prime gave another nod, deciding to overlook the fact his warning from orns earlier was ignored. "Since they are doing well, the question becomes: what do we do with them now?"

Jazz leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table top. "Hound reported a Neutral band not too far from here."

The CMO frowned. "Is that wise? To give two sparklings to the Neutrals? Their chances of survival are greater if we keep them here."

Prowl gave a slow nod. "They are indeed greater, but as I said before, this is a military base, not a place for sparklings."

Elita-One frowned. "Have any of you mechs actually looked around this base since they were brought here? Mechs and femmes alike have taken to them. There's been more laughter, more smiles. The atmosphere in general is lighter than it has been for a while. Having the little ones running around…it's done this place good. Besides, our dear CMO has already named them. That would imply a certain level of affection."

Ratchet ducked his helm. "They are…comforting. The battle last orn was rough. Having them, seeing their happiness afterwards…" he shrugged and sat back. "It is your call, Prime."

The femme commander shook her helm. "I think they should stay, no matter what you decree, Optimus. Our bots now have something to come back to. After each battle we face, we can return and have physical evidence of what we're fighting for. Of what we're trying to protect. They can see it. They can touch it. Having the Twins here has strengthened the resolve of our warriors, our medics, our engineers. Everyone. You can't deny that they haven't left an impression on you either, Prime."

Optimus sat back in his chair. He took his time with his decision, looking at each of his officers in turn. Prowl met his gaze and flapped his doorwings low once. Elita raised an optic ridge, silently communicating she would cause a lot of trouble if she didn't get her way. The red and blue mech chuckled. "Well, since it seems they have stayed out of mischief so far and have lightened the mood of the base, I see no reason why they can't stay here. Prowl, I'll leave you in charge of creating a schedule of care and procedures to follow should an attack place them in danger. We will publicly announce that they will remain and enforce that their care is the responsibility of all who are stationed at this base. Ratchet will remain the final say in their upbringing. Will this be satisfactory to all?" There were enthusiastic nods all around the room. "Very well then. Shall we move on to the next topic?"

********

"Well?" Moonracer and Firestar shot to their pedes as the medic entered the rec. room. "What did Prime say?" At their feet, Striker and Spin Out were still playing.

Ratchet smiled, but the smirk on Elita-One's face was more effective.

"I knew they would stay the moment they were brought onto this base," the commander said.

Her underlings grinned. "You're so good at convincing him," Firestar said.

Elita laughed. "Prime wouldn't have turned them away anyways. But a word of caution to all of you." She raised her voice so all present could hear her. "Ratchet is being assigned as their guardian. I would mind your manners, unless you want a few extra dents."

Mechs and femmes cheered at the news. Startled, Striker and Spin Out looked up at the medic with wide optics. Ratchet knelt in front of them, his red hands out stretched. Almost automatically, both twins grabbed one of his hands with both of their own. Spin Out gave a curious whistle.

"Yes dear spark," Ratchet whispered. "You're going to stay with me."

Giggling, the twins let him pull them into his embrace.

********

~Fifteen Vorns Later~

"Spin Out! Striker!"

Optimus looked up from the data pad he had been reading as the younglings dashed by in the other direction. Smokescreen rounded the corner a moment later.

"Having difficulties?" the Prime asked.

Smokescreen snorted. "Jazz has been teaching them tricks again."

Optimus chuckled. "Who was the victim this time?"

"Red Alert."

"Ah. I have an idea. I know it will only encourage the behavior, but I suggest recruiting a few others to arrange a prank on Jazz. The femmes might be a good source to consult with."

The Praxian grinned. "Ratchet will probably want in on it too."

"No doubt. But you didn't get this idea from me."

"Of course, sir. If you'll excuse me, I have a set of twins to catch."

Optimus nodded as the smaller mech raced off. He couldn't help the grin that spread over his face and was glad his battle mask was in place. It was a joy to have the little ones running about the base. Morale had improved greatly and his soldiers were more at ease with the younglings' constant giggling and cuddling. He was extremely glad in the case of his Chief Medical Officer. Ratchet's moods had mellowed a lot since the twins were allowed to stay and be his charges. They gave him something else to focus on in the aftermath of their battles. He just hoped keeping them here really was the right choice.

With a sigh, the Prime continued on his way to his office.

********

Ratchet heard the faint giggling before he even finished typing in the code to his quarters. He smiled as the door swished open, revealing the twins lying on the floor, trying to escape Jazz's tickling fingers.

"I thought Smokescreen was watching them today?" he asked, letting the door close behind him.

"Ratch! Ratch!" Striker and Spin Out were up and running in a flash, barreling right into his legs and wrapping their arms around him in a hug.

Jazz chuckled. "He was. Little ones outsmarted 'im in a game o' hide an' seek so Ah took 'em for a bit."

"Lookit what Spin did! C'mon!" Striker was tugging on his hand. "Ratch!"

Moving carefully so as to not dislodge either of the smaller bots clinging to his legs, the medic allowed himself to be drawn to the low table in front of the couch. "What is it?"

"He drew a picture of us!" Striker's optics were bright with his excitement. "Can we hang it up? Please, please, please?"

Ratchet picked up the paper and studied the painting for a moment. He smiled down at the youngling. "Of course we can. Spin Out really has a talent for art."

Jazz rubbed the top of the shy bot's head. "Sure does. Bot's gonna be famous someday if he keeps at it."

The white and red medic nodded. "It's a better profession than being a prankster," he said, smirking at the other.

The spy laughed lightly. "Yeah, Ah'm gonna go now…"

"Thanks for watching them."

"My pleasure! See ya later kids!" Jazz waved and was out the door.

"Where can we hang it?" Striker was jumping up and down, helm turning this way and that while he tried to find the right spot to put the picture.

"Well, where do you think it should go, Spin Out?" Ratchet bent and picked up the youngling who instantly cuddled into his neck. "What do you think?"

"Over there?" Spin Out pointed, his whispered question sounding unsure.

"The wall beside the berth?"

"Yeah! Yeah! That's a good spot!" Striker grabbed the picture and dashed to the berth, his red and black frame a blur as he got up on the surface. "Right here, Spin?"

The black and yellow bot considered for a moment, then nodded. Ratchet set him down and pinned the paper to the wall in the spot they had chosen. "It looks great right there," he said, smiling at them both. "Have you refueled yet?"

"Yep!" Striker was still bouncy. "Jazz gave us our cubes a little while ago."

"Good. It's time for recharge then."

Both younglings groaned at that, but settled down on the berth next to him. He wrapped them in his arms, sighing as the tensions of the cycle faded away with the nearness of their pulsing sparks.

"Ratchet?" Spin Out's quiet voice brought him back from the edge of recharge.

"Yes little one?"

"Will we always be yours?" Striker quit squirming at the question and looked up at him. They were completely focused on him, awaiting his answer.

The medic sighed. "My dear sparks. There will never be any other twins in my spark but you. You will always be mine."

"Ratchet?"

Ratchet chuckled. "Yes Striker?"

"Will you sing the song to us?"

Ratchet nuzzled their helms and began to softly sing a little lullaby to them. Mechs had asked him how he got them to recharge so easily while they struggled when they were watching them because the medic couldn't be there. He never told them of the simple melody he randomly hummed to them. As far as he knew, there was no song like his around. It made his spark soar to watch the drowsy looks come over their faces as he, and he alone, soothed their cares away.

Two little sighs of contentment, and the younglings fell straight into recharge, secure in their guardian's arms. Ratchet followed them, a smile on his face.

********

~Seven Vorns Later~

They all looked up, startled with the sudden blaring of the base alarms. The twins dropped the game they were playing and shot across the room to him, grabbing hold of his frame tightly.

"Easy, easy," Ratchet soothed. He gently stroked the back of their helms before they captured his hands in theirs. Several other mechs formed up around them protectively as they moved out of the rec. room. "It's okay."

"Ratchet?" Spin Out gripped his hand tighter.

"It's okay. You'll be safe."

A pale pink and peach colored femme scurried around the corner. The ring of mechs parted just enough to let her through. She stopped in front of the medic. "Elita-One sent me to take the Twins."

Ratchet nodded and knelt. "You both know the drill by now. Rosette will take care of you until Ironhide, Optimus, Jazz, Prowl, Elita, or myself come for you. Listen to her and you'll be safe. Can you do that for me?"

Striker nodded and took Spin Out's other hand. "We'll be good. Promise."

"Good." He rose, guiding their hands to take the femme's instead. "Keep them safe."

"Cross my spark," Rosette replied, pulling the younglings closer. "Let's go little ones."

She jogged, keeping her pace just slow enough for them to keep up. Both younglings looked back as they rounded the far corner. Ratchet gave them a smile and small wave, encouraging them. They disappeared and he let his smile fade. "All right, mechs. To your posts. Time to get to work."

********

"Come young ones. We're almost there," Rosette cooed, ushering them further down the hall towards a hidden room. "Just a little further and we'll be safe."

Spin Out dug his pedes in and tugged back on her hand. "I forgot! I forgot something!"

"It'll have to wait sweetling. We can't go back for it now."

Striker pulled his twin forward. "It'll be okay Spin. We gotta do what Ratch says first."

Spin Out hesitated for a moment, then allowed them to guide him onward. Rosette glanced both ways before letting them turn the final corner to their destination. The trio was half way to the concealed door when a black shadow slunk around the far corner. Red optics instantly locked onto their movements and a hiss drew their attention.

"Rosette?" Striker asked, optics wide as the feline mechaniod slowly approached.

The femme cursed softly and pushed the younglings behind herself. "Stay behind me, both of you." She opened a comm. line to the officers, quickly informing them of the situation. A few that could be spared were dispatched to aid her in protecting her charges in reply. The fastest mech they had on base would be there as soon as he got out of his current engagement.

Ravage glided closer, tail flicking in interest as the femme growled in warning. Spin Out and Striker pressed against the backs of the femme's legs. She stepped back as the Decepticon slowly moved closer, attempting to keep as much distance between them as possible. She knew she could easily chase the cat off, but was very unwilling to leave the twins open for an attack from any other concealed source.

A flash a pale blue shot around the corner and skidded to a stop in front of her in a crouch.

"Blurr! Blurr!" Spin Out and Striker cheered as the racer took up a defensive position before them.

"Heya little buddies. All right Rosey?" Blurr lowered his crouch as Ravage continued his slow advance.

Rosette reached down and took each twin by the hand. "I'm fine, but we need to get them out of here."

"Lemme put the kitty down and out of his misery and we'll get them someplace else," Blurr rose slightly, settling his light weight on the tips of his pedes.

Ravage growled a hissing laugh. Rosette crouched as well, pulling the twins in closer to her frame. Both were trembling lightly, their optics wide as they watched the Decepticon. So far, the Autobots had managed to keep both relatively sheltered from the war. Their only experiences were watching training matches and knowing those who were hurt were in the medbay. As far as any Autobot knew, neither twin had ever seen a Decepticon before.

"Okay, Rosette. Here's what's gonna happen. Ratch said…." Before the mech could get any further, a loud popping sound was heard and several more, larger frames took up positions around them.

"Seekers!" she yelled, just a nanosecond before a shot from a null ray slammed into her chest. She faintly heard the shrieks of the twins as she fell back, her grip on their hands weakening.

Blurr was shouting, moving at his usual fast pace around the cramped space. The smaller frames were yanked away from her as she finally finished her fall to the floor. More voices joined the din, the others sent to help her just then arriving. She tried to focus, tried to pull the younglings back to her sides. The shouts turned angry and terrified as the cries of the twins were suddenly silenced after a loud crack split the air. Her vision went dark as she felt herself being lifted from the ground.

********

Rosette awoke, staring up at the ceiling of the medical bay. After her CPU had finished its reboot, she glanced around. A few berths away, Blurr was in recharge, his left leg stripped of armor and in the process of being repaired.

"Rosette?"

She looked the other way, trying to sit up as the Femme Commander approached. "Elita! The younglings!"

Elita placed a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down. "Easy, Rosette. Lay back down for a bit."

Obeying the gentle command, she did as told, but gripped the other femme's arm. "What happened?"

"From what we can gather, Ravage reported what he found to Starscream and Megatron. Skywarp used his teleporting abilities to get his trine to your position. They warped out just after the others found you."

"Striker and Spin Out. Where are they? Are they safe?"

Elita sighed, squeezing her shoulder. "They're gone. The Seekers took them. Jazz and his team have been looking nonstop since the battle, but they haven't found anything yet."

Rosette's spark contracted sharply. "Gone?" she whispered.

The darker pink femme nodded. "I'm afraid so. The Decepticons were looking for a new way to hurt us. Ravage was in here to do just that. When he found you and the twins…Ratchet is very distraught over this. He does not blame you though. He knows you were only thinking of their safety."

"We'll get them back, won't we? We have to! They're…"

Elita-One rubbed the side of her helm. "We're doing all we can at the moment. But with Skywarp's ability…it's hard to tell where they are now."

"Rosette," the soft voice drew both femmes' attention. The older medic slowly approached, his shoulders slumped. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Ratchet! The Seekers…!"

The white bot shuttered his optics for a moment and let a sigh out of his intakes. "I know, Rosette, I know. It's not your fault at all. You did the best you could, considering the situation. Everyone did."

Elita tugged on Rosette's arm. "If she's clear, I'll take her back to her quarters." Ratchet waved them off, already turning away.

Rosette looked back one last time at the medic's slumped form as she was pulled from the room.

********

The door closed behind him with a soft hiss. He didn't bother with the lights, not wanting to see the state his quarters were in. His memory was sharp enough to show him where everything was anyway.

Striker's blanket was draped haphazardly over the arm of the couch. He had been so drowsy that morning, waking him up had been a challenge. They had sat on the couch, the youngling in the medic's arms, wrapped up in his little warm cocoon. If he concentrated, he could still feel that warmth against his chest.

Spin Out's drawing pad and markers were still scattered over the low table before the couch. A half finished picture of the three of them would stare up at him if he were to look at it. Spin Out had been sitting on the floor, working on his drawing as Striker fought waking up in Ratchet's arms on the couch. He vividly remembered the little huff and helm shake Spin Out made as he communicated over their bond, trying to get his brother up faster.

Slowly the lights came on, revealing the scene as it had been left that morning. He forced himself to look around, to move closer. As he left the doorway, he could almost hear their laughter and feel the impact as they rammed into his legs in greeting. He sat down on the edge of the berth, gaze drifting listlessly over the room.

He called out a faint 'enter' when there was a knock at his door. It would be easier to just let whoever it was in. Some of the other officers were known for using their override codes even if they were told to go away. Usually it was Prime who was bugging him with that.

A non-descript mech came in, pausing just out of arms reach. "Ratchet, sir?"

"Yeah?"

"Commander Jazz requested I deliver this to you personally. We found it just at the edge of Autobot territory."

"What direction?" Ratchet held out a hand for the item.

The mech hesitated for a moment in answering. He gently set the object in the medic's palm. "Towards Kaon, sir."

"Thank you," Ratchet nodded and the mech silently left.

He waited to make sure the bot was truly gone before looking at what he held. His intakes stuttered. The piece of paper was crumbled and torn, the colors smudged. But despite that, he could still make out the drawing of himself. Spin Out had just been working on it the last orn. It was just him alone. Spin Out had said something about keeping it for himself so he could always know Ratchet was with him. It had been truly adorable at the time.

Now it was just a ripped scrap of paper. Only half of his frame was on it, the other part only Primus could know where.

_Kaon._

Ratchet slumped back onto the berth, holding the ruined picture. If they were being taken to Megatron's stronghold, there was little chance they would be found alive. They weren't strong enough to survive a place like that. He could feel his spark breaking at just the thought of what they would be facing.

He didn't regret keeping them. He cherished every moment he had kept them, raised them. But he couldn't help but think that he should have listened to the Prime from the beginning. He could have avoided all of this.

Sighing and pushing all thought from his mind, the medic let himself drift off into an uneasy recharge. What was done, was done. He could only vow to never let anyone close to his spark again.

********

~Several Millennia Later~

How he hated them.

What right did they have to strut around like they did? His twins were long dead. What gave these twins the right to still be alive?

Sideswipe was wild. He was the prankster, the joker, the entertainer. He didn't care about the rules and purposely set out to break them, just for kicks. They were always injured, especially him, no matter how small the tussle. He always had that cocky grin, like he knew something you didn't. Like he was light years above you.

Sunstreaker was worse. He was volatile and unstable. He was stand-offish and threw himself helm first into any confrontation, whether it be against Decepticons or fellow Autobots. He cared for no one but himself and his twin. He was cold-sparked and vain. His paintjob put even Tracks to shame.

They were dangerous and deadly. He had watched them on the battlefield countless times as they tore into their opponents. They had even taken on Megatron himself on occasions. The Decepticon gestalts were nothing to them. The twins could bring them down with only the aid of a sniper. And the Seekers? Well, he didn't feel any sympathy for them. He hoped the damages they took from the twins' actions hurt. It was only fair for the pain they caused him.

Ratchet was sure both twins had death wishes due to their ferocity and willingness to stand on the frontlines.

And they wouldn't leave him alone!

Smokescreen had started a betting pool on just when the medic snapped and killed them. He was so tempted to just do it, but only stopped because it went against his nature to kill and it would hurt the Autobots. Despite being the resident pains in the aft, the two were some of the best frontline fighters they had. A necessary evil, as Prowl called them. Of course, when they were caught in a raid of the gladiator pits it went without saying they would be good on the battlefield.

They were from Kaon. Had lived there for as long as they could remember. He had felt hope bloom in his spark during that first interrogation, but the longer he knew them, the less and less the possibility that they could be his twins. They were just too different. There was nothing about them that resembled his precious younglings.

So he went on, pushing them away orn after orn. He wanted nothing to do with them. Every prank, every cheeky grin, every chipper 'thanks, doc!' as they hopped off the berths in his medbay grated on his nerves. He yelled and ranted at them. He threw his tools at them, chasing them off. But they kept coming back. It seemed they had made it their duty to annoy him endlessly.

He just wished they would get the hint and leave him alone.

********

The medbay was finally empty, the last patient released only breems ago. Ratchet sighed in the silence, exhausted but not yet willing to call it a cycle. He didn't want to leave the bay in such a messy state, but his frame was dragging, making it hard to want to do anything. He leaned against the edge of a berth, absently wiping down the surface that had been cleaned to perfection a while ago.

He growled when the doors hissed open. "I swear by Primus, if any mech has already undone my repairs…"

"Ratchet?"

He froze as the soft, trembling voice cut off his rant. He turned, intakes hitching, only to glare and snarl as he caught sight of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. "What do you want?" Sunstreaker flinched at the harsh tone. He actually flinched! Ratchet mentally gave himself a pat on the back. Maybe they finally were getting the hints. Sideswipe growled low, shifting just a hair closer to his yellow counterpart.

"We finally figured it out," the red menace said.

"Figured what out? For the love of Primus it's too late for me to be putting up with your shenanigans. Go away," Ratchet snapped, turning away himself.

"We figured out why you're so familiar."

The medic turned back to face Sunstreaker. "What?"

The golden warrior shrunk back, but a nudge from his brother had him talking again. "You're familiar. We couldn't remember why or where we might have seen you before, but we just knew that we've known you before we joined the Autobots."

Ratchet shook his head and threw his cloth down. "I'm not dealing with this right now. If this is just some kind of prank you can go and…" The yellow twin's behavior was off, but he wasn't in the mood to really care at the moment.

"It's not a prank," Sideswipe interrupted. "Show him Sunny."

Sunstreaker was reaching into his subspace, but Ratchet had had enough. It had been a long cycle and he was not going to stand there and let them make a fool out of him, no matter the slightly terrified looks in their optics.

"Get out of my way," he brushed past them, intent on getting to his room and falling into his berth for the next cycle. "If I see you again before the next shift I'll report you to Prime for harassment."

They trumped down the hall after him, following him all the way to his quarters. He spun back around as the door opened, glaring at them. Sunstreaker lowered his gaze, but Sideswipe stood his ground. "Let us explain, Ratchet!"

"Explain what? I'm tired. If you want to bug someone go find another bot," Ratchet turned and went into his quarters, not expecting that the red twin would stick his pede out and stop the door from closing. He barged in, pulling his brother in behind him. "What are you doing?" Ratchet demanded. "That's it! I'm calling Optimus!"

"No, don't! Please! Hear us out!" Sideswipe grabbed his hand. The medic dug his heels in and resisted being pulled closer. "Just listen to us!"

Sunstreaker was moving around the room, looking for something. Just what, the medic didn't know, but he didn't like this turn of events.

"You little Pit spawns! Let go of me and get out!"

"Got it!" Sunstreaker was pulling something off the wall.

Ratchet's optics widened. "Put that back!" He watched as the yellow mech knelt, flattening the torn picture on the table. "Leave that alone!"

Sunstreaker paused, looking up at his twin and the medic. Sideswipe took advantage of the distraction and pulled Ratchet back against his frame. "Who drew that picture, Ratchet?"

The white mech was cursing and struggling, trying to get free of Sideswipe's grip. "It was made by one of a set of split spark twins I cared for. If they were still alive they'd be better mechs than you are!" He jerked free and stepped away.

"How do you know they aren't still alive?" Sunstreaker asked softly.

Ratchet glared and stomped over to him, swiping the remains of the picture off the table. "I wish they were. They'd be more enjoyable to be around than little fraggers like you!"

"You promised we would always be your twins," Sunstreaker stated, optics wide.

Ratchet froze for a long moment, looking from one twin to the other. Both wore expressions of apprehension and hope. "I made no such promise to you," the medic replied, his voice a low growl. "You never were, nor will you ever be, my twins. Now get out."

"Let's go Sunny," Sideswipe whispered. "It's not going to do any good."

Sunstreaker stood and took a few steps. He shook his helm and spun back around to face Ratchet. "You have to listen to us. Please Ratchet! We're not the same, but we are…"

"Get out!" Ratchet yelled. "Just get out!"

"Sunny," Sideswipe gently tugged on his twin's arm. "Leave it, Sunny."

Sunstreaker looked like he would protest, but quietly left after his twin. Ratchet sank down onto his couch. The nerve! The rest of the command staff would be hearing about this stunt. Oh, there were disciplinary actions for their pranks, but this time the punishment would be far more severe. He would see to that himself. These twins had crossed a line and he had a good list of mechs who would want some payback for it.

Suddenly even more exhausted, he didn't even bother to move to his berth. He slumped down, holding the half-drawing in one hand as he just let himself slip into recharge.

********

His processor hurt even before he opened his optics. With a sigh, Ratchet sat up, rubbing his neck. Recharging on the couch was not one of his brighter ideas, but he'd slept in worse positions and places before. It was with a sudden jolt that he remembered why he had stayed on the couch. With a growl he stood, fully intending to head straight for the Command Center.

A piece of something on the low table caught his optic as he turned. The paper was crumpled and wouldn't lay flat for anything. He knelt, trying his best to smooth it out, wondering how it got there. It was faded and stained, and all the edges were ragged. It looked like it had seen a lot of use. But that wasn't what bothered him. It was the smeared image on the paper that made his intakes hitch.

With shaking servos, he placed the two pieces of paper together. The piece that had been returned to him long ago fit closely to the edge of the new one. As he watched his hands move the pieces into position, the image cleared and caused his spark to skip a pulse.

The drawing of himself, made by Spin Out the orn before their kidnapping, was complete again.

In a flash he was on his feet, charging down the hall with both papers in his hand. His first stop was the quarters shared by the twins. When his override code showed him an empty room, he raced off. Every helm in the rec. room raised as he skidded in through the doors.

"Where are they?" he demanded.

"Who, Ratch?" Jazz asked, leaning back in his chair to see around Prowl's doorwings.

"The twins. Where are they?" he asked again.

"What happened Ratchet?" Large hands landed on his shoulders and he became aware of the clatter of his armor as he shook. "What's wrong?"

"The twins. They tried to prank me last night. Said they knew me from somewhere from before they were Autobots, that I was familiar. They followed me into my quarters. The things they were saying…They claimed they were my twins…"

Most of the present crew were on their feet, shouting in anger. The loss of Striker and Spin Out was still a sensitive topic, even after all this time. Optimus squeezed his shoulders. "You think it was meant as a prank?"

"I did, yes."

Jazz was yelling at the crew to sit down and listen for an astrosecond. Ratchet was guided into a chair at the officers' table. Ironhide slid a cube of energon across the table to him. Prowl had a datapad out and was already taking notes about the incident.

"Unfortunately, any disciplinary action will have to wait," the SIC reported.

"Wait? Why?" the medic questioned.

"The twins were sent as protection for a scout team that left early in the cycle. They will not return for three orns."

"Three?" Ratchet asked, disbelief plain on his faceplates. "Three orns?"

"No. Call 'em back. Send someone else. This needs ta be dealt wit' now," Ironhide growled. "They ain't gettin' out o' this."

Jazz shook his helm. "Can't. Been plannin' this for a good while. We've only got this one window ta get the information we need."

Prowl glanced at Optimus, who took the seat next to the medic. "Sir?"

The Prime frowned. "What else happened Ratchet?"

"Sunny went looking through my things. He found the torn picture Spin Out had drawn before they were taken. I don't know what he was going to do with it. They finally left before he did anything," Ratchet said.

"Why did he want that?" Prowl asked.

"I didn't know at first," Ratchet placed the picture on the table. "But I found this on my table this morning." Carefully, he laid the crumbled paper down, trying to smooth it out some more. "And if you hold it just so…" he moved the pieces together.

"It's a match," Optimus said softly. "The complete picture."

"But how did Sunstreaker get that?" Prowl wondered. "Ratchet, do you think…? The odds of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker being…"

"I know," the medic looked miserable.

Optimus looked around the room. "We can't call them back. We need the information that team is after. Jazz, before they get back I want you to find any information about them you can. Let's be ready for any possibility." He turned to the medic. "Take the cycle off, Ratchet. The rest will do you some good."

Ratchet nodded, optics not leaving the picture before him.

********

~Three Orns Later~

"All right, mechs. The twins are scheduled to report in later this cycle. Jazz, what have you been able to find about them?" Optimus asked.

Jazz stood as Prime took his seat at the conference table. "Ah was able ta track 'em back ta the gladiator pits. Mah reports indicate they'd been there for quite a while. They dropped in an' out toward the end, only goin' in for a fight when they felt like it. We were able ta get a hold o' the medical reports that went with 'em. They're split sparks, and the age tagged to 'em is close to the age our twins would be right about now." He pressed a few buttons and the medical reports displayed on the large screen behind him.

Ratchet shook his head. "They've taken a lot of damage over the vorns. When I examined them, there wasn't an original part left on them."

Jazz nodded. "There isn't. Ah did some further diggin' and borrowed your reports on them. Comparin' the earliest reports ta your current ones shows that there were a lot o' changes ta 'em. But then Ah went deeper and pulled up Striker and Spin Out's medical files ta compare. Ah don't think ya did that, doc."

The CMO nodded. "It never occurred to me to cross-check the files. I just wanted to get them as far away as possible."

"Did you find anything?" Prowl asked.

Jazz glanced back at the screen, then at his audience. "Ah did. Yer current reports and the earliest from the pits had some similarities. So wit' that thought, Ah decided ta compare our twins ta them. Here's what Ah found." He pressed another key and a different medical report appeared side-by-side with the current one.

"Impossible!" Wheeljack's chair dropped to all four feet from the lean it had been in. "Ratchet!"

"I see it, I see it!" Ratchet was up and moving closer to the readouts. "Between Striker, Spin Out, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker there is only one similarity. Nothing on their frames is the same…except this." He zoomed in on the frames and his voice grew shaky. "According to this comparison, the spark signature is exactly the same, with only a few minor variations that could have been caused from injuries."

"So what does this mean, Ratchet?" Optimus questioned.

Ratchet took a shaky breath through his intakes. "With this…it could very well be possible that the twins are ours."

Jazz crossed his arms. "Ah also found out Sunny's an artist. Pretty famous for his art in the Towers, too." He projected another screen with a sample of the art. "Siders is near enough ta being the king o' the black market. He had a very lucrative business goin' at the end when they was in and outta the pits. Might still have several of his contacts he can pull on if we ever need something."

Prime leaned back in his chair. "Ratchet? I will leave this to you, since you have the most at stake here."

"I…" Ratchet scrubbed his face. "Let me speak with them. If this is right…I have to be sure."

"All right then. Shall we send them straight to the medbay upon their return?"

"Ratch can deal with them while I check the others over," Wheeljack said.

Optimus Prime nodded. "Very well. Dismissed."

********

"Send them to my office, would you?" Ratchet asked as the sound of footsteps approached.

"Sure," Wheeljack replied. "Heya Ratch? It'll be okay. You'll know for sure now."

Ratchet nodded and slipped into his office. He only had to wait a few moments before the door opened again and the twins entered. Both were dirty and tired looking, with wary expressions on their faceplates.

"You wanted to see us?" Sideswipe asked. He stood slightly in front of his brother, his stance protective.

"I did," Ratchet suddenly found it hard to get the words out. "I…that night…"

The red mech's expression closed off. "Look, we got it. We left. We're not yours."

"That's…not true," Ratchet whispered.

Sunstreaker stepped forward, ignoring his twin's protests. "Ratchet?" It was that same soft voice, hidden underneath the angry and confident tones the warrior now used.

The medic took the few steps closer to close the distance between them. "I need to be sure…" The yellow mech held perfectly still as the red hand reached out and was laid directly over his spark.

The pulse was strong and steady. He held out his other hand and the red twin instantly was there, letting the hand rest over his own spark. The beat was the same for both. The tingles from his sensitive hands raced up the medic's arms and his intakes hitched. He looked up at both of them, searching their faces and optics for anything familiar.

The yellow one was terrified. His optics were pale and wide. Ratchet could see the hope blooming in them, the emotion trying to drown out the fear of rejection. The red one was more impassive. His optics were wary, but a yearning was hidden there too. He looked like he wanted to believe this was happening, but was too beaten, too spark-broken to really let himself go. Their personalities had changed in this situation. In any normal time, both would have been aggressive, assertive, and confident. Now, Sideswipe was protective, defensive, and guarded. Sunstreaker was timid, fearful, and…shy.

The more he looked at them, the more pieces of the puzzle that was these twins fell into place. They were never without the other, even when injured. They were protective of each other, always watching their backs. They were excellent at pranks and had succeeded at pulling a few on Jazz. They were good at strategies and had surprised Prowl with a few of their ideas. They could hold their own at cards against Smokescreen and could match Ironhide blow for blow in a training session. They could get a laugh out of Prime when all other efforts failed.

All because  _they knew_.

They knew who they all were. He could see it in their optics now. They were more familiar with these Autobots than anyone could have guessed. It explained their fierceness on the battlefield. They weren't just wild and didn't just randomly attack. They were everywhere all at once, taking shots other mechs might not be able to withstand. They weren't just needlessly throwing themselves into danger. They were protecting them all, watching out for the ones they cared the most about.

And as he gazed at them,  _he knew_.

"Oh, Striker, Spin Out."

"Ratch," Spin Out began to purr as he tucked his face into the medic's neck. Striker was more cautious and simply stood there, waiting for the white bot to make the first move.

"What happened to you? I thought for sure…"

Sideswipe sighed, finally moving and wrapping his arms around Ratchet's waist. "It was the gladiator pits. The frames we had then weren't strong enough. Our processors weren't able to keep up either. We got a different appearance, different names. The whole change was just short of a full reformat. We had to block out everything we remembered and focus only on staying alive. That was the only thing we could do."

Sunstreaker raised his head enough to nuzzle the side of his helm. "But we couldn't really forget you. We always had something to remind us that there was someone else we needed to get back to. That piece of the picture helped. I lost count of how many times we went into recharge just staring at it. It was all we had, but it was enough."

"We knew the moment the Autobots picked us up that we were getting closer. Spin was flipping out the first time we saw you," the red bot laid his helm on the older mech's shoulder.

"You're so different now. I just couldn't see it. I let my grief get the better of me. I was so jealous of seeing you both walk freely around the base. But now, all those pranks, all those little injuries make perfect sense."

He felt the yellow painted Spin Out smile against his neck. "We had to make sure it was you. You looked the same, but we just had to check. So we did anything we could to get the chance to be close to you."

Ratchet chuckled weakly and held them as they slid to the floor. "My dear sparks. My precious dear sparks."

"Always?" Both twins pulled back, looking at him intently.

He watched them for a long moment, memorizing their faces. In their optics, he could see faint traces of who they used to be. He sighed, knowing that no matter the outside appearance, they were his and his alone.

"You will always be mine." He smiled as the larger frames curled against his, a helm coming to rest on each of his shoulders. Both began purring, snuggling tight to his sides. The warmth of their bodies seeped into his, sinking all the way to his spark. This close he could feel the familiar pulses of their bright sparks reaching for his. He wrapped them more securely in his arms as tension drained from his frame. "Always."

"Ratchet?"

Ratchet chuckled at the already drowsy sounding voice. "Yes Striker?"

"Will you sing the song to us?"

He couldn't help but give a shaky laugh. "Of course. Let's see if I remember it…" Softly he began to sing the simple melody he had made for them so long ago. Two little sighs of contentment, and his younglings drifted into recharge, securely back in their guardian's arms. After a while Ratchet followed them, a smile on his face.

********

Mirage silently slipped from the room and disengaged his electro-disruptor. He nodded to Wheeljack, who sank down onto a chair in relief as the spy left. The Noble opened a comm. link as he walked down the hall.

_'Mirage to Prime and Jazz.'_

_'Go ahead, Mirage.'_

_'What ya got, Raj?'_

_'Mission is a complete success.'_

Prime sighed on his end of the link.  _'Well done, both of you. Without your efforts, I shudder to think of what would have happened.'_

_'Ah'm just glad we were able ta find 'em again. Catching 'em in that first scouting mission ta the pits was pure luck.'_

_'It was,'_  Mirage agreed.  _'But now they are reunited. That's all that matters.'_

Both could hear the relief in Optimus' voice.  _'Again, I thank you both for your part in bringing them back to us.'_  He let out a chuckle.  _'Just don't tell Ratchet we've known who they were since they were brought in.'_

Jazz laughed and Mirage smiled. Finally, things would be right in their world.


	13. 92-Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt:**  92-Christmas  
>  **Rating:**  PG-13  
>  **Characters:**  Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Ratchet, Various  
>  **Word Count:**  4,004  
>  **Universe:**  G1-ish  
>  **Warnings:**  Hints of other activities  
>  **Disclaimer:**  Transformers is not mine.

Despite it being a human holiday they had cheerfully adopted, and the crew being in a good mood, it had still been a rather stressful day.

First, had been a sheepish Bluestreak and Bumblebee. Somehow, the sniper had twisted a doorwing while trying to help the little spy with hanging up the last of the decorations. But on the other servo, they had left out the abhorrent stockings from the last go around. The replacements were a huge upgrade this time. It had taken very little for him to straighten out the pair and send them on their way. He went back to finishing his inventory.

Not even thirteen breems later, in came Inferno, dragging a protesting Red Alert with him. The fire truck was insistent on the Security Director being checked over. Red Alert wasn't freaking out like many of the crew would have thought at first glance, so the medic asked just why he was being brought in. With a huff, Red Alert began to calmly explain the situation. By the time they finished arguing, the irate medic was inclined to agree with Red Alert and that Inferno just needed to go with it and enjoy the activities Red had planned for him. They left the same way they entered, only Red Alert was grinning impishly as he was quickly dragged away, trailing the ribbon he had brought out as an example of what he had planned.

His third visitor was of course, Wheeljack. The engineer had somehow fried a few circuits in his hands while experimenting with a set of decorative lights the humans used on their trees. Ratchet just really didn't want to know how it had happened. He fixed up the Lancia and sent him packing back to his lab, under threat of being Swoop's guinea pig should he do anything else stupid or harmful to himself or others for the rest of the orn.

After him had come the rest of the science team, wondering if he could spare a moment to check over the gift they wanted to give to the crew. It was a solution guaranteed to help keep ice from forming on their windows. Of course, it had been thoroughly tested, but they wanted his final approval before distributing it out. Of course, they were completely sure it was perfectly safe to use on glass surfaces and the ice wouldn't stand a chance against it. Of course, they were going back to the drawing board to try again and were deeply sorry about the melted surface of the metal berth. And yes, of course, they were going to carefully dispose of this mixture. And no, Wheeljack had not been part of this.

His fifth visitor was Jazz, bringing in a giggling Prowl. Yes, a giggling Prowl. Ratchet could only stare for a moment before snapping himself back to reality and demanding to know what in the slagging pit had happened. One cube of the high grade for tomorrow's Christmas party? Only one? Well, things were beginning to look up then weren't they? He prescribed berth rest and a cube of his timed tested and proven hangover cure. Which prompted him to quickly begin making several more batches of the soon-to-be-needed brew. And to remind certain mechs to have their image capture devices at the ready. The party promised to be blackmail gold.

On and on the day went, with mechs popping into his medbay like jack-in-the-boxes. The range of injuries and disturbances he received was actually very impressive, and would have been worth a good laugh if the last one on the list hadn't been so…well, stupid.

Of course, the king of his stressful day was Optimus Prime.

He had slid on a patch of black ice and was currently stuck on the side of the road in a large snow drift. With a sigh, Ratchet joined the rescue team and trudged out into the cold, yucky weather. The ambulance began to berate his leader as soon as he reached him about the stupidity of driving in the snow with his trailer empty and hadn't he learned his lesson last year with the Tree Incident? But, Prime had been ready for him. No, the trailer was not empty, and how was he supposed to play Santa Clause at the party if he didn't have any gifts to give to the crew? And well, yes, it had been Jazz's idea.

The rescue party trundled off back to the  _Ark_ , so excited that they didn't even notice when Ratchet pulled a Prime and slid off into a ditch piled high with dirty snow. Grumbling, the medic managed to free himself on the fourth try and transformed to attempt to shake some of the slush out from underneath his armor. By the time he looked up to find the rest of the party, they were already out of sight.

With an annoyed sigh, he returned to his vehicle mode and slowly made his way back to the  _Ark_. Happy voices rang through the halls as he made his way back to his quarters, his shift having ended on his journey back. The only thoughts in his processor were of the pair of mechs he hadn't seen a sign of all cycle. His lovers had been suspiciously absent all day, not that he was complaining or anything, and he couldn't help but hope they were already waiting for him. Maybe they would be in the mood to give him his present early? He sure felt better at the thought of an early Christmas gift exchange.

He was so lost in his thoughts and built up such expectation of what was to come that it felt like his spark dropped to the bottom of its casing when the door to his quarters opened to reveal a dark, empty space. With just a little pout, he turned the lights on and saw that everything was left as it was. No one had been in here since he left at the beginning of his shift.

Disappointed, he trudged to his wash racks, holding out on the hope that they might just arrive while he washed the snowy grime from his frame. His spark seemed to fall even lower when he finished and there was still no sign of them. He sent a ping to their comms. When the ping came back a few moments later, he was able to gather they were in Portland, and it would be sometime before they got back. He knocked back a cube of energon and settled on the berth, resolving to wait up for them. His irritation and disappointment rocking higher and sinking lower, he didn't fight recharge when it snuck up and pulled him under, still alone.

********

His internal alarm buzzed cheerfully at him the next morning. He gave a languid stretch, content in the knowledge all of the shifts had been cut in half so the whole crew would be able to attend the Christmas party that night. He reached out with a smile beginning to form, only to have it vanish as he encountered empty air.

He was still alone.

His frame was warm, but not the warm it should have been with his lovers next to him. There wasn't even a note on the table to show they had been there and left again. A ping to their comms. only told them they were back in Autobot territory, but neglected to give him a more precise location.

Annoyed, he grumbled all the way to the medbay where he attempted to finish the inventory he had started the day before. He got a lot further this time around as no one came into the bay to bother him. By the time his shift ended, the music was already blaring across the ship from the rec. room. Knowing his lovers would already be back from patrol and ready for the festivities, he made his way to the crowded room.

It seemed nearly everyone was there. Jazz and Blaster had the music and lights going. Bots were dancing and laughing. Prime looked ridiculous with the giant Santa hat on his head, but not as pathetic as a sulking Ironhide with elf ears on his helm who stood next to him. Optimus winked at him and passed the large red bag for his elf to carry as they moved to the spot Jazz had set up for them. Ratchet was sure the Prime was grinning wickedly behind his mask. Red Alert's cameras tracked every move the weapons specialist made and Hound looked gleeful as he snapped some pictures for later use. Fighting a laugh, he made his way towards the other two officers.

Optimus gave him a serene look as he stopped in front of them. Ironhide huffed and crossed his arms, refusing to acknowledge either one of his friends. The semi let a sigh out of his intakes.

"Aren't you supposed to say something, Elf?"

"Bah, humbug."

"Hey, where's your Christmas spirit, Hide?" Ratchet joked.

"It ran away."

"Now, now. Be a good little elf and you'll get a nice present later," Prime teased.

"Frag you."

The slow crinkling of Optimus' optics gave away the impish smile he wore. "I guess you really don't want your…reward for being Santa's little helper?"

The medic barely repressed a chuckle as the red mech turned a curious optic on his leader. "What kind of reward?"

"Oh, the kind that everyone likes, of course."

"Just get on with it, Hide," Ratchet grinned at the frown the other gave him. "What are you supposed to say?"

Ironhide muttered something without looking any of them in the optic.

"What was that, Ironhide?"

"He's made his list, he's checked it twice. You know Prime knows who's naughty and nice. Santa's brought some gifts for you, so step right up and see if you've been good."

"That wasn't so bad," Ratchet said with a chuckle.

Prime sighed. "He needs to put a little bit more effort into it, but that will do for the first time."

"You do know, Ironhide, that it can always be worse," the CMO smiled, indicating Prowl who stood off to the other side of the room with a red bow tied around his chevron and a gold bell in the center. There were other bells on his frame and the glare he was sending Jazz every time he moved and jingled was priceless.

"Oh, Jazz is so dead later," Ironhide laughed.

Ratchet turned back to Prime. "So, I've been good this year. Where's my stuff?"

"Gettin' a little greedy there, aren't ya?" Ironhide asked.

"Shut up, elf. And no, I'm not sitting on your lap to tell you what I want. Just hand it over."

Optimus laughed and dug through the bag of goodies. He was frowning when he straightened. "I thought I had something else…" he trailed off, distractedly holding out a plain white card. "I'm sorry, old friend, but I must have misplaced it."

Ratchet shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I know where you live so I can get it later. Have you seen the Twins yet?"

The other two shared a look. "Not yet, Ratchet. Maybe they're waiting for you somewhere?" Optimus suggested.

"Hmm, perhaps. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

Nodding at their goodbyes and smiling as Bluestreak bounced up for his turn, he looked over the room's occupants once more. A glance back showed the young sniper firmly nestled on Prime's lap, both enjoying a long, comforting embrace. The gunner hopped up after a bit, present in hand, and proceeded to lean up to give Ironhide a quick peck on the cheek. With a giggle, he dashed back into the party.

Ratchet opened a comm. line to his Prime.  _'Are you by chance going to mention to a certain weapons specialist that he's standing under the mistletoe?'_

Prime gave him a bland look and sent him a straight forward, direct answer that was filled with amusement.  _'No.'_

_'Have fun then and take a few pictures for me,'_  Ratchet cut the line and gave the room one more glance. Still not finding even a flash of red or yellow, he left the party and retraced his steps to the medbay and his quarters. When that proved futile, he checked the wash racks and even went to their room.

There was no trace of the brothers.

The medic leaned against the wall next to the door. With a frown, he remembered the card he still held and brought it up for closer examination.

_'To Ratchet—_  
We're waiting here  
In darkness drear  
For you to come and find us.  
Take three rights  
And follow the lights  
Look close and you can't miss us.  
From S/S' 

Cute, but not exactly what he thought he would find.

Resigned to play hide-and-seek, Ratchet reread the note. Waiting in darkness? The whole Ark was lit up like a Christmas tree so just where…aha! The caves. While they were used by some as an escape of peace and quiet and others used them for playing games and training, the caverns weren't lit. Processor made up, he made his way to where the ship ended and the volcano began.

It would be easy to figure out what the next clue meant. He turned on his headlights and followed the tunnels. He took the first three rights he came to and was approaching the fourth when the twinkle of colorful lights in the passage to the left caught his optics. A smile formed on his lips as he followed the sparkling rainbow of color.

The end of the tunnel opened into a modestly sized, domed room. Blue lights circled the floor and rows of white icicle lights dangled from the rocky ceiling. It wasn't bright, but when he turned off his headlights, it was just right.

_'Look close and you can't miss us.'_  There really was no missing them.

They stood together across from him, their arms crossed loosely over their chest plates. Their bright cerulean optics were watching him from under the edges of their helms. The glittering lights gave a soft shimmer to their polished and spotless armor. Around their feet were stacks of boxes of all shapes and sizes wrapped in shiny paper.

"Merry Christmas, Ratchet." The voice was smooth and soft and gentle and sounded like nothing any other member of the crew besides him would ever hear. Shivers raced down his spine at the sound.

Even though Sideswipe had been the first to speak, Sunstreaker was the first to move. The gold mech stalked forward, all grace and perfect control. He stopped within just a few inches of their plating touching and looked like he wanted to say something, but was debating on how to put it into words.

"We wanted to make it up to you," he said in a quiet rush.

Ratchet gave him a curious look. "Make what up to me, Sunstreaker?"

He looked down, as if he couldn't bring himself to look the older medic in the optic. "Last year wasn't…it could have been, should have been…"

The ambulance gave a light chuckle and placed a red hand beneath the younger mech's chin, forcing him to look up. "Last year was perfect, Sunny. Awkward, but perfect."

Sunstreaker sent a glance to Sideswipe. The red twin pushed off the rock wall, his movements just as controlled as his brother's, but still with a more wild edge that set them apart. "What Sunny means is that, well, last year was great, but we felt like it could have been so much more."

Ratchet shook his head. "I wanted nothing more than the gift I received last year."

"Gift?" Sunstreaker asked. "But we didn't…"

"No, you didn't get me anything, but you didn't need to. You two are the best gift I could ever ask for."

Sideswipe's smile was a little wobbly. "You're the first mech in a long time to accept us as we are, together. There's no way we can express just what that means to us."

Ratchet reached out and the red fighter eagerly leaned into the hand that cupped his cheek. "I've been fascinated with the pair of you since I first laid optics on you. To realize that night you had an equal interest in me…"

Sunstreaker abruptly pulled away with a shake of his finned helm and a snort. Sideswipe grinned and was slower to put some distance between them. "I think we were gettin' too mushy for Sunny's tastes."

"Agreed," Ratchet replied. "So all those presents…"

"Yep. Just for you," Sideswipe stated grandly, throwing his arm out to gesture to them all. "You know we love you, so there was nothing to stop us from spoiling you rotten this time."

Ratchet was beginning to grin at the sight of all the gifts they had gathered just for him and move towards them, but froze in his tracks. He turned and looked back at them with optics gone wide.

"Ratchet?" Sunstreaker asked. "What's wrong?"

The medic shook his head. "Did you just…?"

"What's the matter, Ratch?" Sideswipe looked just as concerned as his brother. "Did we do something wrong? What…?"

"You said 'love.'"

"What?" Sideswipe's optics went comically wide and he shot a wild glance at the yellow bot. "I did? Well, I mean, oops. Yeah, yeah, my bad. It's only been an Earth year and all…"

In the back of his processor, Ratchet was laughing hysterically. Watching the red twin flounder like a fish out of water and the rather frightened look on the yellow one's face was not something one got to see every day. Sideswipe continued to desperately search for a way to cover his slip. Sunstreaker was the very definition of deer-in-the-headlights.

He knew he should really do something to soothe them. True, they had been together for exactly an Earth year today, but none of them had ever mentioned or hinted at the L word. He had been considering it, but didn't want to pressure them, scare them off, and all that other jazz. Besides that, it just never seemed to be the right time. Between battles and recovering from injuries and work shifts and the breaks separating the fights, there just hadn't been a moment where they were safe enough to admit anything like this.

But tonight was different. He looked around at all the effort they had put forth into making the holiday special. The cavern was cleared out and cleaned. The lights had to have taken some time to put up so they hung just right above them. And the gifts. Every box was wrapped differently, and he wondered if they had spent the past day avoiding him just so they could finish them. If this place wasn't safe, where was? Now was as good a time as any.

Sideswipe shut up as Ratchet approached Sunstreaker. The golden mech flinched as the medic reached out and his twin shifted in preparation of intervening if needed. Sunstreaker allowed the touch on the second attempt and Ratchet gently ran his hand up the frontliner's arm to rest on the other's neck. "So what do you feel? Your brother seems to love me. Do you?" He kept his voice low, his tone tender. Sideswipe shifted again, his posture guarded and poised on the edge of movement. Without the delicate sensors on his red hands to feel the vibrations, Ratchet wouldn't have been able to tell the younger brother had even made the quiet whimper. "Sunny?"

It took a long, long moment. Ratchet was in no hurry though, and patiently waited. While Sideswipe was confident enough to admit the feelings they both felt, he wanted to hear Sunstreaker say it for himself.

"I love you, Ratchet."

So faint, so genuine. His weary spark melted in its casing. Satisfied, he spun away and moved to the presents. Behind him, Sideswipe gave a low, dangerous growl.

"So that's it? We admit how we feel and you just walk away?"

Smirking, the medic turned and paced back to them. His smirk widened at the sight of Sideswipe's dark glower. "You're bold enough to say it without prompting. I needed to hear it from Sunny before I did anything about it." That said, Ratchet slapped a bow he had swiped from two of the packages onto their chest plates. "There. Now my presents are perfect and I love them both, possibly more than they could know."

The next instant, he was surrounded by strong frames and even stronger sparks. Both were shaking and before he knew it, he was making soft cooing sounds to calm them as he held them in return. They sank to the floor, trying to borrow as far as they could into each other. _Yes,_  Ratchet decided,  _this was the safest place in the galaxy._

It was a while before the twins pulled away to look at him. Sunstreaker instantly reburied his face against the medic's neck. Sideswipe busied himself by tracing random patterns on the red palm he cradled between his own black hands.

"You're sure, Ratchet? I mean, you're not just saying…because we did and all…"

Ratchet chuckled and pushed Sunstreaker back so he could watch them both while he answered. "I'm sure, Sides. I'm pretty sure that after all this time, after all the repairs I've made to your frames, after all the times I've held your sparks in my hands, that I would know just how deep my feelings run."

Sunstreaker sighed and nuzzled in close again before he jumped up and dashed over to the pile of boxes. Sideswipe laughed at the sudden change in mood and followed to select his own offering for the medic. Ratchet watched them, his spark lighter than it had been in years. The yellow mech came back with a bound and offered his gift with an elaborate bow. The white bot eagerly tore through the paper and opened the box to find a glass ornament with streaks of blue and green in it.

"It's beautiful, Sunny," he said, smiling.

Sunstreaker ducked his helm. "Made it myself," he muttered in a rush.

"You did? It's amazing," Ratchet carefully cradled the glass in his hands. "Thank you."

Sunstreaker flashed him a grin that was at odds with the picture the medic had made of the yellow Lamborghini. Sideswipe came back to stand beside him, observing his twin with a fond smile. Ratchet opened a private comm. line to the red one.

_'He's like a youngling.'_

Sideswipe gave him a sidelong glance.  _'We never really got the chance to be younglings. I always tried to make sure he got the most out of the chances we did get though.'_

_'What was…did you see that? His fins…'_

_'Hmm? Oh, his helm fins? Yeah, they move like that.'_  The fins on Sunstreaker's helm were waving gently as he picked through the presents to find the one that would be best to give next.  _'They're just like Blue's doorwings, only a lot more sensitive.'_

_'I've never seen them move before.'_

_'No one but me has. You're in deep now, babe. Sunny never lets anyone see them move, unless he feels absolutely safe with them. They're one of his weaknesses.'_

There was a warning in those last words. Ratchet nodded solemnly, accepting the trust both were placing in him. He caught Sunstreaker's hand when the mech returned. "I promise to you, to both of you," he held out a hand for Sideswipe to take, "that I will never willingly harm you. We'll fight and be angry, but never, never will I purposely hurt you. The rules will change in life or death situations, of course, but you're too precious to me to risk." 

"We can deal with that," Sideswipe answered. 

"But don't start thinking that just because we love you we'll stop being pains in your aft," Sunstreaker added. 

Ratchet laughed as he accepted the gifts they gave him, accepted them for who they were. "I wouldn't have you any other way." 


	14. 47-Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt:**  47-Heart  
>  **Rating:**  K  
>  **Characters:**  Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Ratchet  
>  **Word Count:**  604  
>  **Universe:**  G1  
>  **Warnings:**  Fluff  
>  **Disclaimer:**  Transformers is not mine.
> 
> This is the last of the chapters I needed to transfer from the FF.net account. I've got several other prompts started, but it might be a while before I actually finish and post them. A new job search has taken priority right now. Thanks for reading!

He slumped strutlessly on the couch, letting his limbs flop whichever way they fell. There had been two battles nearly back to back at the beginning of the last orn, and they had been on double patrols the rest of the time to help pick up the shifts left from injured Autobots. He was so drained that at the moment all he could do was let his optics roam around the room, watching the only occupant in the area that had enough energy to actually do something. But as he sat there, a thought wiggled its way into his processor and decided it needed to be spoken about now.

"So they say home is where the heart is."

His companion didn't pause in his activity. "They do."

"Do you believe it?"

"It makes sense. You?" A datapad was pushed aside and a new one was pulled closer.

"Don't know. I mean, wouldn't it be hard to carry a house with you all the time? Plus, I've never seen anyone actually carrying a house."

"It's an expression. You don't literally carry it."

"Then what's it mean?"

That datapad was finished and pushed to join the other one. Another new one replaced it. "I believe it means no matter where you go, if you have love, you'll be home."

"Love?" he sat up a little more, attempting to get a better look at the other's face. "What's love got to do with it?"

"Stupid, humans use their hearts for love." The mech nearly passed out on the berth piped up.

"Lay off, bit brain. I knew that."

"Hush up, both of you, if you want me to continue this conversation."

"Sorry," the two voices chorused.

"Anyways, I believe it means where your love is, your home is."

"Still don't get it."

"All right," the datapad was discarded as the mech turned in his chair to face the other. "Think of it this way: you love me, I love you. That being said, we can be anywhere in any place we've been or have yet to be, and as long as we love each other, we can make a home."

"What if we're apart?"

"It doesn't matter. We'll still have love and will be together again."

"Okay, but we don't have hearts. Does it work with sparks?"

The mech chuckled as he stood and stretched. He walked over to the one sprawled on the couch, bent, and lightly brushed his lips across the other's fore helm. He placed a hand on the smooth metal over the other's spark. "Yes, dear one, it still works with sparks."

"Oh, good," the goofy, exhausted grin he got in answer made his spark warm.

"If you two are quite finished, I'd like to get some recharge before the next shift starts."

Ratchet smiled. "Up you get, Sideswipe. Your brother is getting grumpy."

"He's always that way."

"Go to recharge, brat."

"Love you too, sunshine."

The medic snuggled into the larger frames on either side of his on the berth. The soft sounds of overtaxed systems finally getting the chance to shut down slowly lulling him into his own recharge.

"Hey, Ratch?"

"Yes, Sides?"

Strong arms wrapped around his waist as the warrior cuddled closer. "Is this what it feels like?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is this what it feels like to be at home and in love?"

Ratchet chuckled softly, entwining his red hands with black ones. "Yes, Sideswipe. This is what it feels like."

"Oh, goody," the frontliner faded further into the grip of recharge, his brother already out for the count. "Love you…"

"I love you, too, dear one."


	15. 15. 75-Shade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt:** 75-Shade  
>  **Rating:** G  
>  **Characters:** Sunstreaker, Sideswipe  
>  **Word Count:** 1,639  
>  **Universe:** G1  
>  **Disclaimer:** Transformers is not mine.  
>  **Warnings:** Fluff, lots of fluff

It was their day off and they planned to take full advantage of it.

Sideswipe rose from the deep grip of a restful recharge slowly, savoring that first perfect moment of pure relaxation and contentment. He let out a long, slow sigh then gave a soft hum of satisfaction.

"Okay?" Sunstreaker's voice was a whisper from across the room.

The red twin shifted, rolling onto his side to better see his other half, who was curled up on their couch. "Mmhmm," he hummed. "Feel really good."

The yellow mech chuckled, his blue optics warm as he watched his brother's sluggish waking. "Take your time, then. We've got all day."

Sideswipe nodded, optics drifting to half-mast as Sunstreaker returned his attention to the data pad in his hands. He let his systems finish onlining at their own pace, determined to enjoy every moment of the day. He nudged his twin across their bond, relishing the warmth that filled his spark as he was nudged back.

Sunstreaker had left an energon cube on the berthside table for him and he reached for it as a restless energy began to replace the restfulness of recharge. It was time to get a move on.

He drained the cube and dispersed it with a flick of his fingers. "Ready?" he asked.

Sunstreaker set the data pad aside and stood, stretching as he rose. "Been ready. Just waiting on you."

Sideswipe lightly elbowed his twin as they left their quarters. Sunstreaker nudged his shoulder back with a soft smile as they made their way to the entrance of the _Ark_. They waved to the on-duty mechs as they passed the control room and finally found themselves outside in the bright sunshine.

They stood there for a moment, letting the warmth soak into their plating. Jazz was just pulling up to the base as they slipped into their alt. modes. They revved their engines playfully and the saboteur laughed as he took a position between them.

"Ready boys?" he asked, raising an arm with a grin.

The Twins again revved their engines, sliding forward a few inches in eagerness. With a shout of glee, Jazz dropped his arm and the brothers floored it, tires kicking up dust as they raced away, their own laughter fading into echoes as they sped away.

They raced for a while, speeding down the highways in a game of tag. Sunstreaker eventually slowed, letting Sideswipe take the lead to their final destination. The red twin led them from the highway to a back road that led them into the forest. They transformed back to their root mode and the yellow mech fell into step behind the other, content to let his brother take the lead. They soon came to a large clearing that was divided by a sparkling creek.

Sideswipe paused as Sunstreaker came up beside him. They stood in silence for a moment, optics and audios taking in the life around them. The red twin tilted his helm in question.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Together they spread the large blanket Sideswipe pulled from subspace on the ground. Once satisfied with the covering, they settled down on their sides facing each other, legs tangling as they reclined against the trunk of a large tree. Sunstreaker gave a protest over their bond as his armor scraped over the rough surface, but Sideswipe only chuckled as he pulled two large pillows from his subspace, one red and the other yellow, and situated them between their plating and the tree. Satisfied, they readjusted themselves and finally stilled, relaxing in the warmth of each other and the shining sun above them.

Sideswipe hadn't meant to fall into recharge, but still enjoyed those first few moments as he onlined again, frame completely relaxed and the phantom aches of too many repairs gone. Sunstreaker had moved several feet away to recline against another tree with his knees drawn up to his chest. On his knees he balanced a data pad and was busily moving the stylus over the surface. Sideswipe blinked his optics as he sat up, keeping his movements slow to not startle his twin.

"Is that…?" he whispered his question, optics brightening as he looked closer at the data pad.

Sunstreaker glanced up from the battered pad, an almost shy look on his face. "Yeah. I…couldn't resist."

Sideswipe let a gust of air out of his intakes. Sunstreaker held his old data pad that had all of his art programs. Sure, he had made art with physical tools like metal and paint, but he had also used the pad to create digital pieces as well. Sideswipe hadn't seen the pad in centuries.

"Can I see?" he asked quietly, not wanting to chase away his brother's sudden bout of creativity. It was so rare to see these days.

Sunstreaker worried his bottom lip for a moment, then nodded. Sideswipe carefully crawled his way to his twin's side, not wanting any fast movements to break the fragile peace he could feel in Sunstreaker's spark. When he was finally situated in a lean against his brother's side, Sunstreaker tilted the pad for him to see what he had been creating.

It was him.

He was stretched out on his side, a little half smile on his lips, and his optics offlined in recharge. One arm was curled under the pillow his helm rested on, the other was curled over his chestplate, and his legs were slightly bent at the knees. His plating absolutely shone in the sun streaming down through the spaces between the leaves of the branches above him. The shade cast by the leaves left his armor dappled in darker colors. Fire red turned dark crimson, snow white became a deep gray, and coal black faded to the color of moonless midnight. A few leaves cast their shade across the soft gray of his faceplates, leaving him with a mask of darker shadow over his optics. Behind him, the bright sunlight glittered on the surface of the water in the creek. The blue of the blanket he lay on and the surrounding green of the grass only seemed to highlight the contrasts of his frame's colors.

"Sunny," he breathed, "Do…do I really look like that?" He traced the angles and curves of his picture armor with his optics, not able to quiet believe how beautiful he looked in the drawing.

Sunstreaker looked at him, surprise, confusion, and a little doubt flashing in his optics. "I only draw what I see."

"Yeah, but, it's just…" Sideswipe let his words trail off for a moment, searching for the best way to describe his feelings. "I mean, I've always known how _good_ we look, but this…I…" He looked up at his brother, still reeling and feeling a little lost.

Sunstreaker suddenly smiled, the expression changing his whole face. He handed the data pad to his twin as he twisted, pressing his chest to Sideswipe's side and wrapping his arms around him. "You forget."

After a brief moment, Sideswipe nodded. "Yeah."

Sunstreaker returned the nod and rubbed their helms together. "With all the fighting we forget to stop and see all the beauty around and in us. It's hard to appreciate anything when all you see and feel is every chipped and dented plate after a battle or repair. It's easy to…"

"To lose yourself."

The yellow twin hummed and pressed his face against the red shoulder in front of him. "It's why I try to keep our plating in such good condition. You know I'm not really as vain as the rest of them think I am. But I see you," here he started to gently trace lines on the red plating of his brother, "I see you and am reminded how beautiful life can be."

Sideswipe twisted to look up at Sunstreaker, optics following the dancing shadows cast by the shade of the leaves in the breeze that fluttered over the yellow and black plating. Sunstreaker gave a soft moan as Sideswipe threw himself into their bond, wrapping all the love he felt around the other half of his spark. Sunstreaker's optics slid closed as he sank into the feeling, letting his brother eclipse everything in his world, and returned the feelings with all his strength.

They slowly toppled over, tangling arms and legs to press their chests as tightly together as they could. Sideswipe smiled as they swirled their feelings together, just as sun and shade danced over their plating.

They drew apart after a long while, nearly covered by the shade from the trees as the sun sank closer to the horizon. They just gazed at each other, content to be still and close to one another in the undisturbed quiet of the clearing. Eventually, Sunstreaker began to untangle himself and reached for his art pad.

"Hey, Sides?" Sideswipe hummed in response. "Wanna watch me draw something else?"

"Really?"

"Yeah, come here."

Sideswipe was the follower this time as Sunstreaker took them back to where the blanket still lay. Using his pillow, he leaned back against the tree, pulling Sideswipe down to lean back on his chestplate, cradling his brother between his upraised knees. Sideswipe copied him and raised his knees, letting Sunstreaker balance the data pad on them.

"What should I draw?" the golden twin asked in the other's audio.

Sideswipe grinned, snuggling back against his living pillow. "Something beautiful."

Sunstreaker chuckled, pressed a chaste kiss to the top of Sideswipe's helm, and began sketching out the first lines of a picture.

_"Best day ever,"_ Sideswipe sighed happily across the bond as he watched the outline of the scene begin to appear on the screen. Sunstreaker pulsed his agreement, a smile on his face as he sank into the happiness of having his twin so close and the gladness of still being able to create his art.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this one turned out good. The ending just seems sudden to me, but I'm happy because this is the first piece of writing that isn't just a scene in a bigger piece that I've started and actually finished in years.


End file.
